Cogito Ergo

The trial ended like all free thinking people thought it would.   It also ended like racist semi sociopaths thought it should.   Justice is funny that way. By this time next year, no one will care that one of many dead niggas was blasted by a white dude that started the whole incident.   However, there are things that we need to learn here.   My love for education is rooted in the belief that it moves humanity forward and if we are going to move forward after Trayvon’s death, we should take what we can from it. First of all, kill the witnesses.   George Zimmerman didn’t even have to testify and most of the witnesses went to the stand to verify his story.   Why?   Because that was the only story that they heard.   Why was that the only narrative they had?   Because the only other real witness was the victim.   The neighbors’ testimony was comical.   It wasn’t even halfway believable.   How the fuck did you notice the colors of their clothes but not seem to know that one of the

I learned how to swim in Muskogee Oklahoma.   We were at some motel.   It was the best western or something like that.   It was some small time bull shit but they did have an indoor pool. It was the early ‘90s and the family rode down to middle-of-nowhere Oklahoma to connect with family and go to a blues festival.   Now, both the blues festival and the family visits had their own issues.   The blues festival was really just old niggas listening to “Mustang Sally” over and over and getting faded on a   dirt road, and my aunt’s house seemed to be built on a 20 degree decline.   Leaving the house felt like something was pulling you back in to it, like some redneckville demon didn’t want you to leave down that road of red dirt.   One thing about those red dirt roads that I’ll always remember, though, is that once night fell, you could see every star in the sky.   I’ve never looked up and seen a starry night as beautiful as the night I looked up and saw the sky over that red dirt