Alright

Alright, there's a music to the voicing
Words tumbling out not quite deliberately
A mere good morning from her... Sigh
It lifts you out of melancholy
Togetherness, to dance to her conversation
No matter the topic, it feeds your soul
To hear her. Heaven on the ground
And that's alright with me

...

Alright, a faint thread runs through this thing
Marking moods, as it does, across the rich seams
Hard to understand, but I made my peace early on
Undulating rhythms, I confess, leave me confounded
Chalk it up to underlying conditions
And that's alright with me

...

Alright, the broken strings of your heart will eventually mend
It's a healing process and I fear we must be patient
As to commitment, I'm sated with the stolen moments - intense
Restlessness is your privilege
And that's alright with me.

...

Alright, a passing of the baton
The burden of responsibility
Amidst capricious fortune that we face
Navigating across uncertain terrain
Failure is not an option they say
And that's alright with me

Alright, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Alright by D'Angelo
• Fine by Omar
• Alright by Janet Jackson
• It's Gonna be Alright by Ruby Turner
• It's Alright by Van Morrison
• I Was Doing All Right by Louis Armstrong and Oscar Peterson
• It's All Right by Sam Cooke
• That's Alright by Etta James
• That's All Right with Me by Esther Phillips
• It's Alright by Chante Moore
• Alright by Ledesi
• It's Alright, It's Ok by Shirley Caesar and Anthony Hamilton
• Alright by Kendrick Lamar
• It's alright by Pet Shop Boys
• I Was Doing All Right by Dexter Gordon

File under: culture, observation, perception, strategy, obsession, poetry, toli

Writing log: January 18, 2023

Three Centuries

Voyagers through the terrain of time
Living out three centuries simultaneously
Time travelers in the torrid zone
Navigating its fraught territory

The near past is nothing to speak of
Replete with close encounters with dread
Luckily therefore, we shy away from nostalgia
After all, these were labeled our lost decades
Moreover, even the earlier eras bore a taint of calamity
Of pawnage at home and, in middle passages, chattel slavery

We made our accommodations, and devised our survival strategies
At times resisting those who marked our lands as uncharted territory
They came with breech-loading muskets, Maxim guns at the ready
Meanwhile we had nature's usual afflictions too as adversaries

Mindful of the mosquito principle, we cultivated fever trees
Prepared potions of bitter roots contra miasmas and rank diseases
Plainly the ancients suffered the ailments but didn't have the vocabulary
The graves were getting full - these days we'd call it excess mortality

Black gold and crown jewels extracted, there were protection treaties
Signed under duress, some of the chiefs yielded to malign authority
The structural adjustments of yore, a taste of excessive liability
A short sale, in retrospect they put a human face on ugly realities

Young, ever hopeful, unencumbered by the past, we look forward
As an article of faith, trusting that better days lie ahead
In time, as well as in place, removed from the burden of deference
We bring forth the elements of survival to charge our present

Fumes, fragments abound, shards of memory
That the storytellers left, the faint glimpses of glory
Elements of our present could do with a touch of modernity
We hold on, we hold fast, and we will tell our story

And so some of us, by default, have found ourselves living in three centuries
Simultaneously navigating tradition and modernity
Overlapping frames, for humanity knows no boundaries
No one is coming, it’s up to us to shape the memories

Off kilter, confronted, as we are, with many uncertainties
We wear, as protective armor, our masks of civility
Treading a fine line, but finally in charge of our destiny
Comforted, we attempt the choreography of normalcy

So, the battle enjoined, charting our own direction
The upshot now, the nature of our contribution
Clear-eyed, is to press beyond a naive sentimentality
And demonstrate that we move forward through community

Truth and reconciliation, a conversational strategy
Social living, the antidote to manifest destiny
In the torrid zone, then, this was a matter of necessity
We paid our premiums, soul insurance was the remedy

Three Centuries, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Out of the Past - The Three Sounds
• Side by Side - Dianne Reeves
• Let's forget about the past - Clyde McPhatter
• Now's the Time - Charlie Parker
• Back to the Future - D'Angelo
• Jazz in the Present Tense - Solsonics
• Out of the Past - Art Farmer
• I Can See the Future - Incognito
• Out of the Past - Benny Golson Sextet
• Til It's Done (Tutu) - D'Angelo
• The Past, The Present - Kupla

See previously: The Torrid Zone and Soul Insurance


File under: Africa, culture, observation, perception, identity, strategy, Social Living, memory, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 18, 2022

Mercy is the Gift

In those days we had a choice to make
Whether to raise our voice and be counted
The dilemma in the face of violence
For oppression is a determined foe

And even if silence was our blanket of loss
We marked the times of dread with patience
Consoled that relief would surely come
But always, in faith, we bore witness

Oh the threats we endured,
The heat of cold fury
Such threats that we faced
Those foregone opportunities
Survival carves its blood-tinged imprint
The mold is the human animal

Speak, memory
Of fond flesh departed
Of bonds disappearing
Speak of absences enforced,
This life of ellipses

Speak of unease and timeless worry
Of the heaving bodies we saw drawing their final breaths
Even as throughout, we listened and we stared

But even if a look only deflects the blows of a willful detractor
A burdened soul beholds a shield of grace
Protection that turns into a weapon
For mercy is ours to give

This, the gods have long made known:
Mercy is the gift


...

The fuel Justice layeth on, and Mercy blows the coals

— The Burning Babe by Robert Southwell

Mercy, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Mercy Mercy Mercy by Cannonball Adderley Quintet
• Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology) by Marvin Gaye
• Mercy Mercy by Don Covay
• Somebody Have Mercy by The Memphis Horns (ft. Bobby Womack)
• Have Mercy by Mighty Diamonds
• Somebody Have Mercy by Sam Cooke
• Mercy Mercy by Wilson Pickett
• Mercy Mercy Mercy by Caleb Quaye & the Faculty
• Quality of Mercy by Michelle Shocked
  Ending with a devastating take on the immortal line

...

And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.

— The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare

I've always loved the way the Bard echoes Southwell... the quality of mercy is not strained.


See previously: The Voiceless Past, Speak, Memory, Wrath is for the Weak, Truth and Reconciliation


File under: culture, memory, observation, perception, strategy, displacement, mercy, empathy, Ghana, dissent, Africa, reconciliation, philosophy, Social Living, poetry, toli

Writing log. October 7, 2022

Wrath is for the Weak

Wrath, unlike his elder sibling Outrage,
Doesn't bear the burden of permanent necessity
Rather he presents a signal test of character
Nay a temptation, of the allures of impunity
Oblivious to consequence, the bearer gives full sway to Anger
Single-minded, he seeks the imposition of selfishness
Forcing an unseemly rush to be the sole enforcer

But for good reason, social beasts, we live in community
Beholden to the workings of the Law whose wheels turn slowly
For human life is precious and ought to have sanctity
Hence all those quaint rules and regulations that serve to protect
Wrath, in all his disguises, remains a barbed weapon against life itself

And so, like Cain, Wrath would murder Outrage
The tawdry act betraying a signal lack of courage
With misplaced righteousness and indecent haste
All too often the damage is done, an irreversible mistake

In times past, Shame would leap at the opportunity
A rebound fling with Fate to correct the catastrophe
But sometimes it was too late, and Wrath would no longer be willing
Scent of blood in the sinews - Lust, he'd become enamored of killing

The gift of free will frees us from inhibition
Yet binds us also with the shackles of discretion
Albeit neither God nor mankind's History would ever absolve
The guillotines and firing squads, the wages of Thermidor

Wrath is for the weak, shower them with kindness
Kindness, even when wounded, for it was written
The good books advise to turn the other cheek
To resist the temptation of this mortal sin

True, there's undoubtedly been an injustice
Especially as you witnessed their glib insouciance
But even if pausing may seem like a temporary inconvenience
Hindsight guarantees that your act will only worsen the situation
Instead, revel in the powerful exercise of restraint
Change the perspective, change the rules of the game

This too shall pass, do not give in to the anger
Conflicted thoughts about revenge, self-appointed avenger
For any satisfaction of the wrathful impulse is ephemeral
Regret is all, sadly that is the occasion's sole promise
Rather, lasting strength derives from considered justice

The realization of our stories is that the costs are sunk
Histories are only written after the damage is done
Mythologies that celebrate the conquerors as victors
In the moment, we are not bystanders, we can choose to be actors
But the moral lesson is that we don't need further casualties
The collateral damage notwithstanding, wrath is for the weak

Wrath, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Outrage by Joe Gibb & the Professionals
• Right and a Wrong Way by Keith Sweat
• It's a Sin by Pet Shop Boys
• Wrath of Kane by Big Daddy Kane
• Outrage by Booker T & the MG's
  Following up the adrenaline rush of Kane's braggadocio with the chaos and disorder of the MG's, spinning out of control

See previously: The Sense of Violation

File under: wrath, rage, values, anger, strategy, culture, restraint, decisions, observation, perception, humour, life, Social Living, poetry, toli

Writing log. September 25, 2022

Mercurial, They Call Him

Portrait of a narcissist, a few essential traits
A slight never forgotten, don't you make that mistake
A double heart filled with unspoken threats
He wears the mask the audience deserves

Portrait of an opportunist, moral flexibility in abundance
Reversals galore but he rolls with the punches
His interests always trump friendships, let's call it expedience
For survival beyond the day's end is his sole allegiance

Portrait of the vain, hollow on the inside
Entitlement in stiff competition with pride
His secret weapon, a genuine sense of self importance
Chock full of certainty about the rightness of his cause
To call him self centered is to merely state the obvious

Portrait of a deceiver, all things to all men
Lying with a straight face, his enduring strength
Pitch perfect delivery, you could swear he believes every untruth
Surely, to impugn the purity of his motives? What are you, uncouth?

Carried Fanon's book around for a full year - wretched
Still occasionally tries to read it (practice makes perfect)
But underneath everything is a fundamental insecurity
Mommy and Daddy issues, the bitter roots of his immaturity

The need for speed, horses his first love
But anything with an engine would do
Nights out with the running partners
Booze, the hard stuff, ladies of easy virtue
After dark, how exciting, and all in the same room

It's fair to say that there are multitudes inside of this man
Characterized, everyone says, by his tremendous charm
Unrestrained, unfiltered, half baked, half-cocked
Empty but empowered, half truths, half thought

Absolved, then, of the burden of any sense of responsibility
Free to be a political actor altogether allergic to empathy
A chameleon - mercurial, they call him, the luckiest man alive
Just your luck that you're stuck with him, the best years of your life

Bad, a playlist

For what it's worth, this playlist was intended to stand alone but seeing as I haven't written up the liner notes in the 17 years since I made it, I suppose I can repurpose it as the soundtrack for this note. A couple of hours on a bad man (spotify version)

...

Timing is everything
Observers are worried

...

See previously The Conqueror's Catechism


File under: humour, hatchet job, rogues, satire, culture, observation, perception, military, dictator, blood, sin, greed, gremlins, Africa, violence, strategy, Fallen Angels, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 18, 2022

The Fabric of Memory

Dense knots at times but often barely woven in the main
The textures of memory laid out haphazardly
For humanity could survive on their bed of frayed blankets
The well worn patches were not essential to protect
Their comfort rather came from the sheen of nostalgia
Its gauzy patina born of approximation and careful neglect
Attention wanders and the details are fuzzy
Who needs deep inquiries into imprinted testimonies

Lossy then, this fabric,
Full of improvised identities
Extra premiums are due for error correcting
Recall, the claims adjuster works for the insurance company
The duty of care is yours alone,
As is the responsibility

...

The burden of restraint, and the avoidance of pain too pertains
Such is our compulsion for storytelling
The necessity of inventing those good old days
The wax prints celebrating what were minor victories
Decorations of faded traditions rather than the famines
Rather than the droughts that brought hunger season
Rather than the bush fires that caused an exodus
The painful lessons learned. And the knowledge lost in the migration

Indigo fades over time,
it is said to be a repository of wealth
The dye procedures passed down across the ages, it seems like forever
Occasionally, however, the warnings of the perils are overlooked
But later generations can extract the solutions with a little work
Encoded as they are in the stitching of those famed cloths

...

The ancients were prescient when they sewed
And in their designs, they built in redundancy,
Keen treatments for the fabric of memory

Fabric of Memory, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note. (spotify version)

• Forget me Nots by Patrice Rushen
• Under a Blanket of Blue by Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong
• Do you Remember by Jill Scott
• Blanket by Jeff Beck & Imogen Heap

See previously Memory Islands. Cultural memory is my enduring theme.

File under: memory, culture, observation, strategy, perception, Buyer's Remorse, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 10, 2022

The Memorial Lectures

In a time, then, of intense ferment and revolutionary fervor
When bishops were imprisoned, and judges were being murdered
Amidst vituperous outbursts, obscenities, from the leaders of the junta
Who would set upon any opposition their cadres, commandos, and militias

It took personal bravery from this eminent historian
More inclined to dusty archival work than the realm of the politician
But everyone had to play their part, not just the journalists
The man on the streets, even the poets and the satirists

The call still resounded after six years to stand up and be counted
For, even in those days of despair, the challenge had to be mounted
In the face of random, yet purposeful, terror and violence
To confront head-on the prevailing culture of silence
Up stood the good professor to give those memorial lectures

Political parties were banned, so they were couched as educational sessions
Our intellectual life in those days reduced to Green Book study lessons
Featuring long-winded missives from our friends in Cuba and Nicaragua
East German ideologues too gave input, as did theoreticians from Romania

It's fair to say that this minor act of defiance prompted a revival
A reappraisal, in many ways, of Ghana's philosophy of survival
Methodically and deftly explained with his customary sensitivity
What we choose to remember and forget, the workings of cultural memory

He stepped up to outline the essence of these fraught histories
Provided the background to give strength to quiescent identities
We owe him a debt of gratitude, this mild mannered man of qualities
For laying out the Ghanaian context of the sphinx modalities



In memoriam, Professor Alfred Adu-Boahen

Memorial Lectures, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note. (spotify version)

• Think by Curtis Mayfield
• So Much Things to Say by Bob Marley
• Sorry Ain't Enough by SAULT
• Culture of Silence by Jhelisa
• It's Enough by Lenny Kravitz
• Le Silence n'est pas un Oubli by T.P. Orchestre Poly Rhythmo
• Had Enuf by Al B. Sure!
• In a Silent Way / It's About That Time by Miles Davis

Part II of Sphinx Modalities, putting a human face to Sphinx

Further reading: The Ghanaian Sphinx: Reflections on the Contemporary History of Ghana, 1972-1987

I nominate this piece for the Things Fall Apart series under the banner of Social Living

File under: Ghana, appreciation, resistance, dissent, courage, politics, coup, dictator, strategy, culture, history, oppression, observation, perception, Africa, values, social, Social Living, poetry, toli

Writing log: September 11, 2022

Sphinx Modalities

Docility is much prized by parents and tyrants alike
A double edged sword, however, for the former
For independence and agility of thought are also to be imparted
Lest raising lemmings ends up being one's enduring legacy

Thus the dilemma of the sphinx modalities
The puzzle of how we readily yield to authority
The virtues of critical thinking, prized, yet only obtained with difficulty
Weighed against the duty of protecting one's neck, raw survival's necessity

Organizations too, confront the question, albeit from a different viewpoint
Marx, it was, that wrote of the narcotic effect of all religions
Seeking to explain the evident acquiescence to oft imprudent authority
The silence in the face of privation and, worse, this baleful docility

Outlining the process that leads to overvaluing the herd mentality
The masses' suffering, the false consciousness of conformity
The shackles that bind our traditional respect and shame cultures
The surplus value that opportunists can extract and capture

Juvenal would lambast the enduring appeal of bread and circuses
The dulling of the senses, leaving one prone to domestication tendencies
The suppression of the iconoclast, our embrace of convenient fictions
Perception is everything, such are the dangers of the cattle inclination

The sphinx is an awesome beast, typically lying in repose
But terrifying when it moves, with suddenness and exacting purpose
Mythical in its grandeur, it plainly traffics in concealment
Opacity and judicious revelation, keeping close its terms of discernment

And yet, force majeure, in times of emergency
We see what lies simmering beneath the surface
When societies erupt and break the mask
And tyrants are destroyed and taken to task

In the heat of moment, when they face the inevitable comeuppance
The warnings unheeded, the memory of their unbearable arrogance
From those earlier days when all we could do was to bear witness
Came the silent message: don't mistake my kindness for weakness

He who tests the depth of a stream with both feet must be prepared to swim.

— Ewe proverb, Ghana

Sphinx Modalities, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note. (spotify version)

• The Next Movement by The Roots
• You've Got to Move by Omar
• Beneath the Surface by GZA
• Eruption by Van Halen
• Now's the Time by Charlie Parker
• Beneath the Surface by Incognito
• Don't See Us by The Roots

see previously Nothing to See Here and All Available Indignities

File under: culture, observation, perception, strategy, tyrants, rogues, dissent, anger, revolution, groups, organization, crowds, social, poetry, Observers are worried, toli

Writing log: September 11, 2022

Not in the System

It's not going through; her look, understanding
She sees it all the time, the denials, the rejections
Could I see your insurance card again?
Yes... Please. So I can double check again
Would you happen to have an updated card?
This one might be revoked… possibly
At least that's… at least that's what they're telling me
Yes, uh-huh, it was rejected by the system

Yes sir, I entered everything
Check, perhaps, a summary of your benefits
Sometimes there's... there's a ... discrepancy
A field, yes... one field... once a field is missing...
You know, these things... these things happen
You may want to check with them
But it's not in the system

If you want to continue at this time
You'll have to pay out of pocket
And file a later claim for reimbursement
If you were in the system it would be automatic
But the choice is yours, do you still want the shot?
Or you can try again when you're in the system

...

She'd seen it all before, it was written
A veritable shell game, this healthcare system
Some make profits, the rest of us are victims
One day, one day, you'll have a seat at the table
One day, one day perhaps, you'll be in the system

Not in the System, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note on the reggae side of things (spotify version)

• Babylon System by Bob Marley & the Wailers
• The System by Zion Albert
• Babylon System by Linval Thompson
• The System by Michigan & Smiley
• You are in my System by The System
  Counter-programming some synth pop-funk to switch things up. Don't disturb this groove.
• The System Dub by Zion I Kings

I didn't get my flu shot that day, I was not in the system.

See previously: Default Deny

File under: insurance, USA, health, shell game, culture, observation, perception, strategy, bureaucracy, friction, economics, poetry, Observers are worried, toli

Writing log: September 20, 2022

Default Deny

Default deny is a very simple policy
Easily defended on grounds of complexity
What with the ease of implementation, even if cruel
With the golden excuse, we were just following the rules

Insurance companies often take refuge in it, it's a frequent addiction
Imposing on their customers by default, as it were, this untoward friction
Cynical, in their time of loss when they need rapid compensation
They instead offer up the burden of these inconvenient fictions

In the full knowledge that many won't bother and simply drop it
Their bean counters salivating in the back office thinking: profit
Mind you they're quick to pretend that the end result was not intended
And that it is perfectly normal to shy away from services rendered

Even if the sheer outrage is hard to countenance
It speaks to the perils of living with your fellow man
It's the injustice of it, all those years you duly paid those premiums due
Then it turns out that, all along, they were taking you for a bloody fool

Hence the importance of norms, rules and regulations and enforcement
But also the stick of tort, laws, oversight and, ultimately, punishment
The constant need to redress the wrong and put them on notice
To do the right thing by default and resist the temptation

And shame too has been known to work its charm
Applying the fear of god to prevent such harm
Brand damage remains a powerful tool for compliance
Eternal vigilance being the price of soul insurance

II. Coda

Default deny is also well known in networking technology
Firewalls, those gatekeepers, often turn to this strategy
Out of the box it gets you up and running very quickly
It's the low hanging fruit, good enough, the poor man's security
Protection from without but, sadly, it doesn't cover every layer
'Tis quite the pity, you still need to guard against bad actors
The real world is complicated, it's merely the start of a fight
Trust in Allah, goes the proverb, but always tie up your camel at night

Default Deny, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• You Can't Deny It by Lisa Stansfield
• Turned Away by Chuckii Booker
• Strategy by Archie Bell & the Drells
• You Can't Turn Me Away by Sylvia Striplin

...

Timing is everything
Observers are worried

File under: humour, strategy, culture, observation, policy, insurance, economics, friction, regulation, law, standards, capitalism, incentives, outrage, networks, technology, security, poetry, Observers are worried, toli

Writing log: September 18, 2022

Health Insurance Codes

A doctor friend, it was, who graciously shared the secret
Explaining how to unlock a small measure of respect
Strategic, the secret codes the layman must decipher
To advance within the confines of this healthcare system

Apparently all it takes is to ask two simple questions
The mere mention of which triggers an industry alert
Healthcare professionals immediately put on guard
For it augurs that one is at ease with their language

In retrospect it's surprising that one needs this bit of self advocacy
Jargon to be able to navigate this rugged terrain of uncertainty
An American landscape of billing codes, errors and complexity
Rigged. Defensive medicine in the face of litigious uncertainty

Of course these are just openings, an entrée into a conversation
You make your own luck afterwards, for these are fraught situations
Your body and mind will continue to confront daily adversity
And your interlocutors will contend with the vagaries of biology

And so to the questions, deceptively simple but specific
It is best to feign an aura of comfort with the scientific:

What is the diagnosis?
What is the prognosis?

Code, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Code by José James
• Complicated by Leela James
• Code of the Streets by Gang Starr
• Tell Me by Groove Theory
• Complicated (remix) by Leela James and Anthony Hamilton
• It's Code by Janelle Monáe
• Dr Soul by Foster McElroy ft MC Lyte
• Code (Live) by José James

File under: USA, insurance, obfuscation, language, strategy, healthcare, culture, observation, perception, comprehension, shell game, poetry, toli

Writing log. October 8, 2022

The Sense of Violation

A wrong has been done, there's no doubting it
It's hard to contain the sense of violation
The damage is done, there's no comfort to be found
Regret is all, it's proving hard to move on

Your cause is just, it goes without saying
Basic fairness should have made things go your way
Honor, decency, you've now run the gamut of emotions
To hear "wrong place, wrong time" is no consolation

It's only human to be subject to the vagaries of fate
We realize our place in the world and duly accommodate
But it's hard to bear the altogether capricious
Let alone the impact of the actively malicious

The hurt, the outrage in its wake is volcanic and all consuming
It's hard to control the righteous anger that you're feeling
It's probably wiser to keep a straight face and your own counsel
But, in this mood, the slightest thing could spark a conflagration

And we all know very well where this could be heading
How unproductive it will be, think of the recriminations
Indeed you can't understate the peril of this volatile situation
But, after this injury, there's no hope for reconciliation

Sense of Violation, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note. (spotify version)

• Right and a Wrong Way by Keith Sweat
• The Hurt by The Jacksons
• Anger by Marvin Gaye
• You Done Me Wrong by Al Johnson
• Outrage by Booker T & The M.G's
• Sacred by Amel Larrieux

File under: outrage, emotion, life, culture, observation, perception, strategy, anger, poetry, toli

Writing log. July 16, 2022

Naming is Destiny

The CEO of my mortgage company is named Middleman
My bank manager back in Berkeley was named Rich
I pay due penance to Caesar; I know my place
Naming is destiny, needless to say

...

My NHS dentist when I lived in England was named Pull
Another in the same practice was named Chop
I decided to opt out and my teeth duly suffered
A personal choice, perhaps, to forego what was on offer
But also a comment on English dentistry
For it was undeniable; naming is destiny

...

I'll admit I always fall for it, heck, the marketeers rely on it
Despite knowing that it's likely a raw deal and overstated
There I go again, giving the benefit of the doubt to hucksters
Seduced by that fine label, the new formula
New and improved they say, and it was fitting
Expect buyer's remorse because naming is destiny

...

That they call it "credit card" is quite a tell
When it's a gateway drug into a debtor's hell
Truth in advertising or anchored expectations?
The verb credit has positive associations
Honor and achievement that enable the crucial leap of faith
And just, months later, you're ruing your mistake
Worse, you only have yourself to blame
In truth, a credit card is a confidence game
One you played and failed miserably
You plain forgot that naming is destiny

Naming is Destiny, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify)

• Don't believe the hype by Public Enemy
• My Name Is by Eminem
• Sweet Lies by Beres Hammond
• What's My Name by Prince
• Ain't My Type of Hype by Full Force

File under: humour, life, culture, observation, perception, strategy, Small Things, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log: July 1, 2022

Memory Islands

The ancients observed that reversals were, in many ways, as important
As the victories their communities would accrue in the course of affairs
It would become their practice to find a way to commemorate the former
Even as even the most minor triumphs were what tended to be celebrated

They recognized, however, that it is hard to resist the temptation of the salutary
When the alternative prospect is of encumbering the mind with the unpleasant
After a long consultation with the gods, they devised a solution
The mist of memory became a safe haven

The contours of this terrain was replete with caveats
Overstuffed caves and secret chambers of detailed recall
Next to retreats to escape hatches of situational amnesia
Memory islands were the conflicted legacy of mankind

Too acute a remembrance and one is inhibited
For, if vivid and at the forefront of the mind, a memory can surely blind
Too raw a reminder of past hurt, and decision making would be tentative
They found that sometimes memories were debilitating and that forgetting was best

A fine balance was needed, however, to navigate this fraught life
For, on other occasions, the reverse would be summoned
In many perilous moments, prompt recall can be of the essence
And, even without urgency, precise action can be preferable to a blank slate

The moderns - we should not begrudge them, would now speak of hormones
And sundry glands and secretions that encode our instinctive responses
Yet the ancients would maintain that these textures of ancestral memory
Are merely the rivers that course through nature's memory islands

Memory Islands, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Do You Remember by Jill Scott
• Forget Me Nots by Patrice Rushen
• It's Easy to Remember by Billie Holiday
• Don't You (Forget about Me) by Simple Minds
• I Remember When by Stan Getz
• Did I Remember by Billie Holiday
• Remember When by Ronny Jordan

See previously: Decision to Forget. Cultural memory is my enduring theme.

File under: decisions, memory, culture, observation, strategy, perception, Buyer's Remorse, Observers are worried, poetry, toli

Writing log. June 9, 2022

The Voiceless Past

A terrain of uncertainty
And a time of imposition
It was rough going, to be frank,
Fraught days best left forgotten

We eked out a strange kind of life
The small mercies sufficient unto themselves
When dread was a daily intruder
And our only defense was a stare

Branded itinerant, of no fixed abode
Still we fashioned temporary shelter
Falteringly, we laid our bed of unease
Always wondering when we would next hear laughter

But even in the most precarious moments
We remembered the words of the ancestral songs
And even if we could only sing them softly
We were comforted by their blanket of soul

Serene about the way forward, resolute about the challenge
This interlude shall pass, and we will leave our mark
And the elders' refrain will resound
Full throated, all parts sung in harmony:

In those painful hours, our hearts were hoping
In those silent days, our eyes were watching
In those dark years, our wounds were healing
For even with the tears, we knew our time was coming

The spirits returned our voices, truly the world will remember
And we shall tell everyone the story of those dark chapters
How we never gave up the struggle and proved our mettle
Remember: there is more in the mortar than the pestle

The Voiceless Past, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• We're Gonna Make It by Alyson Williams and Ted Mills
• Tryin' Times by Donny Hathaway
• When We Get by by D'Angelo
• Hard Times by Baby Huey
• Stare and Stare by Curtis Mayfield
• Hard Time by Gregory Isaacs
• Protection by Massive Attack
• Time Tough by Toots and the Maytals
• Protection by Gregory Isaacs
• Tryin' Times by Roberta Flack
• Remember by Hank Mobley

After Talking Drums

File under: culture, memory, observation, perception, strategy, displacement, Ghana, coup, Africa, poetry, toli

Writing log. June 6, 2022

Such Is Our Asylum

A carapace of insight
Built incrementally and revisited anew
An exoskeleton of wordplay
Whose affirmation frames our point of view

A dense network of thought
Fleshing out an informational mesh
Such is our asylum
There's no time for buyer's remorse

Snap judgements galore, we write our own stories
Judicious case studies, arguments by analogy
Feverishly devising impressionistic narratives
Changing the frame with our oblique perspectives

It's a reflection of these fragments of identity
Collecting pieces of a dream in search of community
Crumbs of solace gathered from probing conversation
Forging liminal links while chasing word fugitives

And so we weave together strands of allusion
Erecting barriers of layered protection
A comfort suite of irrepressible storytelling
Refining the mesh that is social living

Toli Theme, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note, consider this a musical manifesto of sorts. (spotify version)

• Strategy by Archie Bell & The Dells
• Stories by Carleen Anderson
• Conception by Black Thought
• Searching by Roy Ayers
• Social Living by Burning Spear
• Weaver of Dreams by Kenny Burrell

See previously: Such is my Asylum

...

The book is done.

This note concludes concludes another collection of toli, my fourth collection of poems, a year in the life. I started May 2021 with The Lobby and ending on May 2022 with another covidious folktale. It took in tragedy and its aftermath in South Africa and Ghana as well as my usual meditations on small things. Hopefully it will escape hypertext into physical form sometime soon... I call it Buyer's Remorse.


File under: culture, observation, perception, strategy, creative process, writing, Buyer's Remorse, poetry, toli

Writing log: March 23, 2022

Goddamn Lies

They cut deeper, they do
 They hurt more than the unvarnished ones
Sure, you can make your peace with the white lies,
  The garden variety deceptions
And deal with the untruths
 And the artful omissions
The distinctions without a difference,
  The what-have-yous
But it's hard to cope with the goddamn lies

You are well familiar with the symphony of deceit
Intimate even, with the ways of evasion

The instinctive lies
 The barefaced ones
The reflexive ones
 The rank denials
The wholly unnecessary ones
 The exaggerations
The diversionary ones
 The outright fabrications

But it's hard to abide with the goddamn lies

And what, you may ask, elevates a lie into that august territory
Moving forward, worthy of that emphatic qualifier?

The texture of a goddamn lie is of the nature of a wound
A goddamn lie aims for, and achieves, infamy
Its essential quality goes far beyond shame
A goddamn lie rises above the highest peaks of untruths
It is of a piece with the surreal, devastating and brazen,
A goddamn lie summons irony, borne as it is out of its bed of hypocrisy
Most of all, a goddamn lie celebrates the lie qua lie
A goddamn lie dances on the grave of its achievement

II.

Politicians, as a matter of course, are avid connoisseurs of the lie
Indeed we expect a close acquaintance of it of most of their breed
Some breathe it with a naturalness that is often unnerving
Grifters too are students and daily practitioners of its corruption
And deploy it in a manner that is all too self-serving
But it is the rarest beast that achieves the goddamn lie

All cultures have their own folklore,
  Often at the expense of others
Founding myths, origin stories,
  Their striking legends soaked in blood

Erecting statues of the colossus,
  Destinies manifest and men's burdens
On terrain where equality, dreams and fond promises
  Meet ceilinged glass
The rhetoric of the powerful
  And the strategy of the shrewd
The hand of god,
  Witness the triumph of the trickster
Freedoms and liberties,
  The laws of grifters

From faulty biology, allusions to race, and sundry nationalisms
History books point to those who heed the conqueror's catechism
But when everything they claim to uphold is written in sand
It's hard to keep things straight when all is goddam lies

Deceit, a playlist

A soundtrack for this evasion. (spotify version)

See previously: Symphony of Deceit

This folktale is part of a series: In a covidious time

File under: humour, culture, deception, evasion, lies, observation, perception, strategy, satire, negotiation, life, rogues, covidious, hatchet job, Observers are worried, Buyer's Remorse, toli, poetry

Writing log. April 22, 2022

Gremlins Do Cry

His was a belated conversion narrative,
   Adequate perhaps, and seemingly benign
But it rather belied the question,
   Was the structural adjustment genuine?
For the jury was still out
   Amidst this veritable parade of hand wringing
To the keen eye, the pose of faux humility appeared to be opportunism

Not so long ago he was so adept at using the bully pulpit
To tar many others with the broad brush of cowardice
The charge was, variously, weak wills and muddled thinking
War was justified, to oppose it was to be a quisling

With ivory tower bonafides, his credentials could not be questioned
He'd write odes to manifest destiny and similarly well-crafted paeans
Loud and obnoxious, spouting claptrap and cheerleading all the way
His world-historic, record breaking hubris prominently on display

Now he tells us, witness the tears of a gremlin
Finally recognizing the "unfolding catastrophe"
That others pointed out was bound to happen
And the concerns raised that he dismissed so easily

Now he tells us,
   And only after flirting with a debased reputation
Pray tell, which of his previous bromides does he now disclaim?
That he was gloriously wrong in every way,
   Witness the horrific death toll
Let alone the huge amount of money squandered
   In the wartime black hole

No one seeks a public flogging
   Or the penance of ashes and sackcloth
But it bears saying that his tribe
   Were the ones who got all the rewards
We should assign responsibility and blame accordingly
   - That is the path of honor
Instead it's manifest destiny revisited as farce.
   A savaging is still in order.

Apologies, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• I Apologize by Anita Baker
• I am Sorry by Gregory Isaacs
• Penitent by Suzanne Vega
• Apologize by Timbaland
• Sorry Sorry by Femi Kuti
• I'm Sorry (Wake the Musical Baby) by Dwele
• Sorry Ain't Enough by Sault

...

Like others I wasn't impressed by the immediate fit of buyer's remorse. If I recall correctly I was even moved to write letters to the editor. Somehow the muse has deemed that verse might be a more lasting contribution.

This note is part of the Shell Games suite.

Previous entries considered Shame Cultures, discussed The Skeptic's Credo, proposed A Taxonomy of Useful Idiots, and observed a Change of Tune.


File under: culture, observation, perception, strategy, hatchetjob, humour, opportunists, media, war, Iraq, shell game, outrage, Buyer's Remorse, Observers are worried, toli

Writing log. Concept: August 5 2007; April 18, 2022

Change of Tune

First comes shame, that old friend, ever reminding of inadequacy
It's never enough, however, for it merely highlights the unspoken
Then comes fear, primal, with its forcing function
Fear prompts action, a movement to self preservation

The moral pivot requires fleetness of execution
The Friday night news dump is a long established tradition
To bury consequential events, bad news and policy shifts
Not everyone can erase history but you can attempt a face lift

For grifters are highly attuned to the attitudes of their marks
Their sixth sense is in identifying a losing play, a bad hand of cards
Almost as if on autopilot, they make course adjustments
The idea is to stay in the game, the shell game that is

Public relation consultants advise a short apology
The content doesn't matter as much as its visibility
After all, you never know, that's the thing about human beliefs
You might still be able to salvage some unearned cash from the deal

For sure, some appreciate a serious expression of contrition
But don't mistake buyer's remorse for actual misdirection
Self-criticism is a bridge too far in the rectification of errors
More preferable is the prompt application of the reverse ferret

Chameleon, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Karma Chameleon by Culture Club
• Chameleon by Herbie Hancock
• Changing my Tune by Mel Torme and Artie Shaw
• Reverse by Raheem DeVaughn
• Chameleon by Jenae Ailia
• The Chameleon by Black Coffee

...

After observing the NFL owners' Come to Jesus moment in light of the George Floyd protests, my long gestating series on Shell Games gained a very au courant hook. As an example of a course adjustment, it was a clarifying case study. Indeed, the headlines were revelatory

In the same vein, an older more classical take on the malleability of opinion and policy is The Vicar of Bray.

...

This fit of buyer's remorse is part of the Shell Games suite.

Previous notes considered Shame Cultures, The Skeptic's Credo, and posited A Taxonomy of Useful Idiots.


File under: culture, observation, perception, strategy, hatchet job, humour, opportunists, media, shell game, Buyer's Remorse, Observers are worried, toli

Writing log. April 18, 2022

Vox Optima

The best minds of my generation devoted to optimizing clicks
With an insight a minute they can overwhelm you with their tweets
It was a shrewd bet after watching the inexorable rise of Wikipedia
To fall in wholesale with the new and emerging commentariat

You might have attended the same schools
   as some of these members of the new media
Roamed the same halls
   studying lessons with the same cosmopolitan professors
Surprisingly, their main takeaway
   was a studied pose of technocratic neutrality
They may appear reasonable and sensible,
   but are handicapped by their incuriosity

Jack of all trades, their concerns are cross cutting
Sad that it seems they've chosen to launder attention
The paradox is that they are often on the right side of things
But choose to squander insight pursuing the wonkish instinct

If you follow their careers closely,
   you'll find the skein of careful punditry
Albeit with fetishized concerns,
   they are ever ready to pronounce reflexively
Sweeping arguments even when it's not their area of expertise
Wars, education, immigration, housing, how hard could it be?

Specialists on policy, whether foreign or domestic
Making claims to insightful views on economics
To opine is an inalienable right to them, if not an obligation
To scratch the surface of the discourse is their avowed inclination

Blind spots in abundance, historical amnesia is their lot
They give a free pass, the benefit of the doubt,
  to patent scoundrels
A repeated assumption of good faith of obvious rogues,
   mea culpas galore
They roam from think thanks, to podcasts and columns,
   it's a revolving door

But is there a there there?
   Does Vox Optima have lasting value?
Is this curious brand of earnest ersatz journalism simply filler?
When you play, as they do, the shell game of the media
One can only fail upwards in this celebrity culture

With their pose of arch seriousness and mask of the anxious
It's hard to locate them in the taxonomy of useful idiots
Some would place them between those who should know better
   and the ignorant
Methinks, though, that they're professionals,
   either opportunists or contrarians

Vox Optima, a playlist

A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

• Time's a Wastin' by Erykah Badu
• Don't Waste Your Time by Rachelle Ferrell
• Spinnin' by Chuckii Booker
• Serious Matter by U-Roy and Beres Hammond
• Are you Serious by Tyrone Davis

...

Timing is everything
Observers are worried

...

After some bright young things who came of age with the web. Middle age looms, you know, might be worth leaving a mark...

File under: culture, observation, perception, strategy, hatchet job, humour, opportunists, media, shell game, Buyer's Remorse, Observers are worried, toli

Writing log. April 15, 2022