Story Archives 2010

I found an earring on the dashboard of the cab.  It inclined my ears toward listening for metaphysical ghosts, chanting dirges from a past fraught with failure.  Whoever abandoned this truck was probably a big burly guy who paid no nevermind to tell tale aromas, but whose heart was broken somehow by a woman who should've been wearing the earring that I found.
It was resting innocently enough on the turn signal switch, seemingly never to be worn by this illustrious woman of mystery.  It broke apart in my hand when I fiddled with it. Whoops. Ow.

Echoes of the remnants off this man's misplaced or displaced love reverberated with a melancholy melody that was as palpable as the mustiness in the air. Rolling the windows down partways helped some, but endangered my personal safety at the same time. No rotting food, no far gone amount of trash but the lingering, somewhat haunting aura that encompassed the cab was
tactile to me.  

But what could I do?

Just feel bad, and try to make myself as comfortable and safe as remotely possible.  Try to sleep until it was light out again.  At which time it was a "good morning world," a wave to all my friends in heaven and a quick prayer to ask God to bless another day and my being in it.  Thanks.   Then, you can probably guess what comes next.  That's right.  Potty time.  Ease out of  the truck and squat where (hopefully) no one can see me.  Grab some paper on the way out. Couldn't lock myself  out--the locks are all old school, nothing but manual. I must say, that after drinking whatever it was that I drank the night before, getting to this point quickly and with finesse, was essential to getting the day off to a good start.    

Then, to face the world I just prayed for..  Amen.  Count my money, here we go.
So, into a rather nondescript  morning, I counted my moolah and it came to 12 bucks.  Pretty good, for a daily average for me at that time.  February, 2006 I think. The good people at Real Change will remember...the incident I am about to convey to you, dear reader, ended up being the cover story for one of the issues.  

Anyway, I climbed out of the cab, did my daily business wearing a fair dose of
chagrin on my face (!) and then, trotted down to the nearby bus stop to head into lower Queen Anne...where I would proceed to make my first beer run of the day.  I purchased two 211's, the cheapo classic from the Mercer Mini-Mart. and went back to the bus stop I had just disembarked from.  Everything was fine at that point.  It was about 7:15 in the morning.  I remember looking at my watch in the daylight and was surprised at being up so early.  But that was okay.

Wait until I tell you what happened next. I figured that I would be okay drinking
my "wake-up" at the stop, as long as I was discreet about it.  So, I went ahead and took out my sony walkman and my headphones and began listening to a Jackson Browne tape--the one with the song--"Sleep's Dark and Silent Gate" on it. It's the last song on one side. I was jammin' along, but not being a nuisance to anybody.  I remember talking to a few people headed off to the university or off to work.  All was cool, or so I thought.    

There was only one other person off to the side...a woman a little older than myself, and looking rather
bored with the world--like she watched a little too much television--and, as far as I could tell, she could care less about me. I went ahead and sang my heart out on that last song. It's such a powerful song--there's really no other way to sing it.  I can still recall the lingering silence that followed in the aftermath...it was as if the trees, the birds-- even the lawns and shrubs seemed to be applauding....You either know what I mean or you don't!  Well, it was after that sweet moment, I turned and faced the bench to put my equipment away.  Show's over, folks. 

My beer was about empty, so my plan was to throw the can away in the nearby garbage can, and saunter on down to Larry's for coffee and a little tidying up.  It was then that I learned that Officer Choi had other plans for me.  I noticed the cop car pull up out of the corner of my eye I didn't really give it much thought.  AT FIRST. I remember thinking it might be some DV ruckus or rigamarole--nothing to do with me.  WRONG! Officer Choi attacked me from behind with no warning,no "Stop! Police!"  Nothing like that. He threw his hands on my back, and grabbed ahold of my jacket. Then, he cast me to the ground, held me down with my face over the curb, into the ditch.  And all he said, over and over again was "Where's your I.D.?"   And I'm thinkin' "What the ----?" He was holding my arms in back of me--how was I to get to my I.D.?  Then, he pulled me up and threw me over the hood ofhis car. At one point, the officer actually had me by the hair, face down in the gutter.

 It was at least dry.

I'm sure I was screaming by then, if I could, but no one driving by stopped. One man took a cell phone video, but what, if anything, did he do with it?  I put flyers out in the area about two weeks later, but no one came forward.  Not even Corona Jim.        

Well, there's more to this story, but my eyes are too tired to continue.  With this
food for thought...John T. had headphones on.  He was shot in the side. The officer in both incidents was working alone.  

There was really no reason for provocation, no need for vicious violence...I lived and still do, and am able to tell you this story.  And know this, dear reader, that every word written here is entirely true, to the best of my recollection.  The paramedics rescued me out of booking.  I came away with a bruised and fractured hip.  And to reflect on my fortune--both bad and good, it makes me wonder if I was profiled and how fortunate I was to get away with my life.  Ciao for now.

Check out these articles and more on our sister sites at Real Change and the International Network of Street Newspapers: INSP Vendor Blog: http://www.insp-blog.org/ INSP Main Website: http://www.street-papers.org/ Real Change Blog: http://www.insp-blog.org/realchange/ Real Change Main Website: http://www.realchangenews.org/ 

• Speaking of good, I got some good tips on how I built and grew my Real Change vendor business through the worstiest times we face, that makes Holloween look like jelly beans. Smile and take notes, this stuff works, here it go:
• First I brought a cheap notebook, Spiderman on the covwer, to record important notes for my business journal. A journal is like a mirror you can see yourself progress.
• I kept communication open with my customers and staye d at the same corner and built a good reputation as a dependable, responsible and friendly person.There no reputation like a good reputation.
• I chose not to smoke or drink on the job because I did not want to run potential customers away. Some body always watching and talking. Believe me!
• Words such as " Good Morning, Good Evening and Thank You " ,has always been in my daily greetings to customers and non-cusomers. It helps to break the ice and show respect.
• Having a plan and working kept me on track to reach my goals. Plan + Action = Success.
• I listened to business motivation tapes that I bought from Goodwill thrift store to help make me strong in sales when my battery was weak. Those cheap tapes paid for themselves over and over again.
• When the economy really got bad, I extened my hours to meet the demands for Real Change paper. The Seattle P-I wenty out of business, the people wanted an alternative paper. I filled their needs.

I realized I was in the right place at the right time, so I helped people who wanted to become Real Change vendors by giving them the information they needed. They were very thankful.

As a street vendor selling street news papers , I can only see business growing and growing. THIS IS MY OWN TIME TO SHINE ! 

Check out these articles and more on our sister sites at Real Change and the International Network of Street Newspapers: INSP Vendor Blog: http://www.insp-blog.org/ INSP Main Website: http://www.street-papers.org/ Real Change Blog: http://www.insp-blog.org/realchange/ Real Change Main Website: http://www.realchangenews.org/ 

While looking for whatever, you find something else.  Drooling over books, 'zines, and free literature at Modern Times Books, among other bookstores at 20th and Valencia Streets in San Francisco, I came across ABU-JAMAL NEWSpaper and read an article by two German activists (Anton Reiner and Michael Schiffmann) who visited Death Row political prisoner Mumia Abu-Jamal at SCI Greene in Waynesburg, PA.

Among other things, what I took from the article is that Mumia got at least 100 birthday postcards in 2010, half of them from Germany.  Surely we can do better than that!  I would like to challenge artists and wannabe artists to create a birthday postcard for Mumia's April 24th, 2011 birthday.  Make between 11 and 51 cards and send one to POOR Magazine, 2940-16th Street; SF, CA 94103.  Give the rest to friends, and if they don't have postage give 'em that too!

Before the sentencing of Johannes Mehserle (for the murder of Oscar Grant) many POOR Magazine folks sent post cards to the judge.  There are other things going on all the time that generate post card mail-in campaigns.  I'm interested in those and want to hear about them,  Send information to kimes.thornton@hotmail.com

GENTRIFUKATION TOURS

“R”

US

 (Aburgesamiento Gira

“Somos”

Nosotros)

“Coming to a Displaced, Dismantled, Redeveloped Neighborhood Near You”

“Viniendo a  un desplazamiento, Desmantelado, Barrio Rediseñado Cerca de Tí”

Mission Statement

We the people, communities of color, workers, migrants, grandfathers and grandmothers, mamas, daddies, elders, babies, young folks, indigenous ancestors and aboriginal peoples who have spent time and love and sweat and tears and prayers caring for, working, dreaming and loving this community, this barrio, this street, this tree, this garden, this flower, for generations, centuries and time beyond Gregorian, missionary calendars, have been displaced by the forces of money, power, real estate speculation, corporate theft, corporate government,  philanthro-PIMPING, redevelopment, criminalization, and gentrification and now only exist as a cultural memory, an “art-I-fact”, a reference, a brush stroke, a photo, an exhibit, a dream to be studied, theorized, painted over, documented and/or forgotten and erased completely as though we were never here.

GENTRIFUKATION TOURS “R” US exists to document the theft, reclaim & take back the stolen spaces,  memories, images, pictures, lives and dreams. To tour and document the default colonizers and 21^st Century Missionaries, the erased and colonized culture and cultural stealers, to re-insert ourselves in the stolen landmark and to reclaim what little of us might still be left 

Declaración de Misión

Nosotros la Gente, comunidades de color, trabajadores, migrantes, abuelos y abuelas, mamas, papas, ancianos, babes, jovenes, ancestros indigenas y los pueblos aborígenes que han pasado tiempo, amor y sudor y lágrimas y oraciones para  cuidar, trabajar, soñar y amar en esta comunidad, este barrio, esta calle, este árbol, este jardín, esta flor, para las generaciones, siglos y el tiempo más allá de los Gregorianos, calendarios misioneros, han sido desplazados por las fuerzas del dinero, el poder, la especulación inmobiliaria, el robo corporativo, gobierno corporativo, los chantaje filantrópico-, la reconstrucsion, la criminalización y el aburguesamiento y ahora sólo existe como una memoria cultural, un "arte-teologico" , una referencia, un trazo de pincel, una foto, una exposición, un sueño para ser estudiado, teorizado, pintado, documentado y / e olvidado y borrado por completo, como si nunca estuvimos aquí.

GENTRIFUKATION TOURS “R” US existe para documentar el robo, retomar y recuperar los espacios robados, recuerdos, imágenes, fotos, vidas y sueños.

Para visitar y documentar los colonizadores por defecto y  misioneros del siglo 21, la cultura borrada y colonizada y ladrones culturales, para volver a insertar a nosotros mismos en el punto de referencia robados y para recuperar lo poco de nosotros  que todavía puede ser recuperado.

TOUR #1 Sites: Gentrifyers on Stolen Land

1.The Redstone building- Sacred Ohlone shell mound site and home of revolutionary labor and community organizations in SF- Facing Con-DO removal

2. Grub 758 Valencia- post-gentrified site: hipsters grazing site on stolen land

3. The Summit SF- post gentrified site: - hipsters grazing and lap-top site

4. Spork 1058 Valencia post-gentrified site; hipster grazing site on stolen land

5.Herbivore 983 Valencia hipster grazing site on stolen land

6. Flour & Water 2401 Harrison hipster grazing site on stolen land

7. Farina 3560 18^th street – Hipster grazing site on stolen land

8. Gracias Madre 2211 Mission street – Hipster Grazing site with cultural theft on stolen land

9. Mamahouse: 1156 Florida st Home of poor mothers gentrified and evicted by real estate speculation.

©A Community Resistance PeopleAtion..

Serving silenced peoples and removed indigenous folks since 1493

Unfolding the Flag

By Revolutionary Worker Scholar

There’s a flagpole

Rag and the

Wind won’t stop

--The police, "King of Pain"

I work as a security guard and was recently sent to a new site. The site provided me with a view of wonderful clusters of trees and a wonderful perspective of the neighborhood skyline with its variety of residential dwellings against the backdrop of sky and its smear of slow moving fog. This beautiful vision was transmitted to me by way of an elaborate closed circuit camera system, providing a bird’s eye view of virtually every corner of the property—with the ability to move the cameras left to right, right to left, up and down, etc. This electronic representation of my natural (and sometimes unnatural) surroundings is, of course, provided to me via 2 video monitors—in black and white.

As part of their daily duties, the property maintenance department is required to remove--at the end of the day--the large American flag from its flagpole, prominently displayed at the front of the property. There are usually 3 maintenance persons to perform this duty but two of them were not available so the available maintenance man asked me if I could assist him in removing the flag. We both took a hold of the rope that dangled parallel to the pole and steadied the flag into our waiting arms. We walked the flag to the building’s lobby area as a cool breeze whisked over my face.

Although I am a security officer, I am sometimes not as cognizant as I should be in regards to protocols and procedures—mainly because there are more than a thousand of them. But I am trying to "G.M.S.T" (ie: get my shit together) in this area, as my job depends on it.

We walked the flag to the couch and placed it down. The maintenance man took me through the process of folding the flag—fold here, lift there, tuck there, etc. I was maintaining control but I lost my grip and the flag slipped from my hand. "Try not to drop the flag" the maintenance man said, gently. But it was clear that dropping the flag was to be avoided at all costs. I picked up my end and we finished our folding sequence. When we were finished, the flag looked like a tightly wrapped triangle.

We brought the flag into the storage room where it was gently placed in a drawer where it awaited a brand new day of waving. The maintenance man left and I assumed my position at the security desk.

I looked at the empty flagpole as the sun began to fade from the sky. I had dropped the flag. Then I thought about the way Oscar Grant was dropped to the ground, face down, unarmed and shot in the back at the Fruitvale Bart Station on his way home from work. I thought: It’s was ok for Oscar Grant to hit the ground but it’s not ok for the flag to hit the ground.

I went back into the storage room, door closed. I took the tightly wrapped flag from the drawer. I looked at it for a long while. Then a cool breeze shot through the window and stung my face as i heard something drop to the floor.

© 2010 Revolutionary Worker Scholar

Hello Peeps,

Krip-Hop Nation made it across the pond!  Got into Liverpool, UK from Belfast Ireland where I was invited by the coordinators of the 4^th Annual Outburst Queer Arts Festival to present about Krip-Hop Nation.  I like to thank the coordinators of the festival for inviting me. 

Although the festival started on the 12^th and lasted until the 20^th my two days there were amazing! I saw some cutting edge work by Brian Lobel, his one man play, Ball & Other Funny Stories About Cancer and Pete Edwards, in his play, FAT, about a gay disabled man falling in love with a fat man.  After two nights in Belfast, I flew to Liverpool, UK for DADA Festival, the oldest and largest Disabled & Deaf Art Festival in the UK and Europe where I and Krip-Hop Nation will be until Nov. 29^th. 

I barely made it on time getting out of a taxi in a different country walking down a narrow lane called School Lane where the venue, Bluecoat, is was like a rush.  A friendly lady guided me to Bluecoat, where The Powerhouse of Superman:  Does Gay Culture Exclude Otherness panel was about to start.  Yes, I was on the panel with a mixture of GBLT & disabled artists.  I hope my good alley listening and supporting skills were shinning plus shared what Sins is doing and my own experience as a Black disabled man.  Thank you my queer brothers, sisters and friends and the Sins Invalid crew for educating me.   I hope next time Sins Invalid crew will be here.

Sunday morning is the talk\poetry that I will do about Sins Invalid at 11am.  Krip-Hop members will be coming in on the 24^th I can’t wait!  Krip-Hop Nation is also connecting with peeps who can’t make the festival and we have invited everybody who are disabled and into Hip-Hop to share their stories with us by writing a one page about living as a disabled British artists/activists and we will post it here on www.POORmagazine.org and on Krip-Hop Facebook page.  Look for the 1st story by an North East of England disabled Hip--Hop artists/activists, PJ and his wife Scarlett Angel SilentKnight.  Of course the Hotel internet rates are high so we might have to wait to post some until I get back home but will try to do our best.

Krip-Hop Nation will also be in London on Nov. 25 to meet with supporters and hope will have some audio and pictures.

If you are in Liverpool come by on Sunday for Sins Invalid intro presentation/performance by Leroy Moore 11-1pm at Bluecoat, Liverpool, UK. & Krip-Hop Nation on Saturday 27 6-8pm Learn some of the Krip Hop Collective’s skills in this workshop, suitable for all. Krip-Hop Nation Networking Sunday 28, 1-4pm Parr Street Studio

Address:

The Bluecoat, School Lane, Liverpool L1 3BX

Tele:  +44 (0) 151 707 1733

www.dadafest2010.co.uk

Another Unarmed Black Brother, Derrick Jones, 37, a loved Oakland barbershop owner and father of an infant girl,
met a violent death on  November .8, 2010, shot and killed by OPD (2 white officers involved), while "fleeing", after they "thought" they saw a metallic object in his hand.

Another Unarmed Black Brother, Derrick Jones, 37, a loved Oakland barbershop owner and father of an infant girl, met a violent death on Monday night, Nov.8, 2010, shot and killed by OPD (2 white officers involved), while "fleeing", after they "thought" they saw a metallic object in his hand.

This OPD homicide occured only THREE days after Judge Perry sentenced the killer of Oscar Grant III, Johannes Mehserle, to 2 yrs in jail (less double credit for 146 days of time served = 292 days for "good behavior"), for "Unvoluntary Manslaughter".

This is the third OPD officers involved Homicide of People of Color in 2010.
Derrick Jones' grieving family has retained the services of John Burris, Oscar Grant's Family attorney.

"THIS INCIDENT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE CASE OF OSCAR GRANT" (?!?)

Today Tuesday, I caught the end of a Channel 7 talk show,
during which a complacent African American conservative anchor contends:

"By the way, it is my belief that Oscar Grant shooting was ACCIDENTAL", and interviews a former OPD white officer and current prosecutor who exhorts the public not to jump to racially biased policing conclusion: "This incident has nothing to do with the case of Oscar Grant. Grant's killing was unvoluntary, while yesterday shooting was voluntary. You must understand that officers have to make split-second decisions when they have a reasonable belief that a suspect is armed and dangerous, and constitutes a life and death threat against themselves or others. Please you have to understand that it is the scariest scenario in an officer's life".

THE DAY AFTER THE SHOOTING, OPD's OFFICIAL VERSION OF THE KILLING KEEPS CHANGING.

The Corporate press trickles cautious tidbits of information throughout the day.
At first, the race of the dead Brother and of the shooting officers is hidden from the public.
OPD spokesperson reluctantly admits that Jones was UNARMED, and that a "confrontation" occurred. ..Note the constrained terminology ?

Police initial communiques usually emphasize:
"Suspect lunged at the officers who feared for their lives"
or "Suspect pulled out a gun, knife" etc.,
or "Suspect turned around and repeatedly screamed C'mon-M...-F...rs -Go-Ahead- 'n-Kill-me"
or "Suspect made a sudden furtive move".

Apparently there has been no physical confrontation in Jones' case.
Throughout Tuesday, the official party line keeps changing, from "confrontation",
to "appeared to reach for his waist band"...
to "officer thought they saw a metallic object in the suspect's hand".

THE HITLIST ON OAKTOWN' CONTEMPORARY PLANTATION CONTINUES TO RAGE ON.

Remember young Brother Laronte Sturdville, 15, shot by OPD in 2007 while fleeing and attempting to pull up his sagging pants?
Luckily, the child survived after 2 weeks in intensive care, scarred for life, shot in the back of his neck while running, the bullet came out of his chin.
Or, Brother Mac Jodie Fox Woodfox, shot in the back and killed in 2008 while "fleeing" ?
all by OPD, and the hitlist on Oakland' contemporary Plantation, the land of the-Proud-and-the-Free-OPD is endless amd continues to rage on.
(in one year, 2 months and 2 weeks, killer-cop Meherle is "eligible for release"....).

"HE IS PORTRAYED AS A MONSTER, AND HE WASN'T, THIS IS ALL SO SENSELESS".
FAMILY SAYS MAN SHOT BY OAKLAND POLICE WAS UNARMED
"Derrick Jones was unarmed and was not reaching toward his waistband when police opened fire"

http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/C/CA_OAKLAND_POLICE_SHOOTING_CAOL-?SITE=AP&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT
(exerpts)
"Family says man shot by Oakland police was unarmed,
Loved owner of a barber shop and killed by officers during a foot chase disputed police's account Tuesday that he appeared to be reaching toward his waistband for a weapon"...
"Family and friends of Derrick Jones, 37, called Monday's shooting unjustified and said witnesses did not see the Oakland man make such a move. They also said Jones was unarmed and that police used excessive force".
"My cousin is not the type of person to harm anybody," said Charles Jones..."It's outrageous for somebody to just kill him like that."
Police have declined to say how many times Derrick Jones was shot or whether a weapon was found on him, citing the ongoing investigation"...
"When officers arrived, Derrick Jones fled on foot, apparently to escape arrest for assaulting the woman Israel said"...
"But family and friends said Tuesday that Derrick Jones is being wrongly depicted as a 'monster' and was only trying to fend off an ex-girlfriend who came to his barbershop causing trouble"...
"the two officers repeatedly told Derrick Jones to stop and tried unsuccessfully to use a stun gun on him. He said the officers also saw Derrick Jones refuse to put up his hands, and he reached toward his waistband several times"....
"one of the officers saw a metal object in Jones' hand, Israel said"....
"An attorney representing Jones' family, John Burris, said Tuesday that witnesses he has spoken to said Derrick Jones was unarmed and was not reaching toward his waistband when police opened fire"
"Any time a human life is lost, the surviving family suffers the grief of that loss, so I offer my sympathies to the family of the man who lost his life last night," Oakland Mayor Dellums said.
"Family and friends said Jones is the father of an infant girl, has been a barber for more than 20 years and has owned his barbershop for the past eight years"...
"Scott Riley, 40, another childhood friend, said Jones served about a year behind bars for carrying a gun to protect himself after he was robbed at his barbershop"...
"He's being portrayed as a monster, and he wasn't," Riley said outside police headquarters. "This is all so senseless."

WHAT PART OF KILLED_UNARMED_BLACK_MAN = MURDER
DOESN'T OPD UNDERSTAND ?
TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE, ENOUGH !!!!

Is the Mesherle verdict ensuring OPD's license to Kill in all impunity ?
No correlation between the Murders of Derrick Jones and Oscar Grant III ?

Apparently, Civil Rights Attorney John Burris does not think so.
Neither do we....
or the 152 Oakland protesters arrested on November 5th after the public release of the Meherle' sentence.

Mayor Ron Dellum, today, slapped together hasty damage control "condolences" to Brother Derrick Jones' Grieving Family.

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE, ENOUGH !!!!

My Name is Pj, I have autism and i live in the north east of England. My story is about discrimination in all sectors including that of hip-hop and the general music industry. 

I have had a discriminative past through my time on earth, i have been excluded from four primary schools, 3 high schools, 2 colleges because i fought those who discriminated against myself or others. I have been sacked from almost 30 jobs and only lasted one week per job, however i write in this section of the abuse particularly within hip hop and the music industry.
　　
My story begins in the year 2000, my dad just bought me a new computer, i have no social outlook or any kind of interaction with the outside world, new to the internet i wanted to reach out to people, the computer, was much like my best friend.
　
I got in contact with a girl who guided me to express my oppression and exclusion from society by writing poems, she offered that this would heal my internal pain, as i started to develop theses poems she sent me some music, a new kind of music to me, it was entitled "changes" from Tupac yes that's what i needed, change.
　
She said to me as i listened to this music "why don't you rap?" i thought was this what this guy was doing? Rapping? i liked what i heard i researched hip hop and i saw it stood for social justice, freedom and equality, based on love and not money, based on peace and not war.

I thought this would be a perfect example to reflect the internal pain out to the world. Sadly, i soon found out this was not the case, actually was the total opposite and seemed a world away from the creation of what hip hop was founded on.

 

I bought a small production software for my computer and decided to try out some new songs, i put them on a website called soundclick, within my first two week i was number one on the website charts, i never knew what type of reaction i would get next.　On the internet numerous of comments came flashing before my eyes "your wack" "you're sh**t" through hundreds of people, some good comments were given but however the sheer hate from these individuals paralyzed me in to distinction, my world on the outside was crippling me, now my own world was killing me.
　
I wrote to my local paper informing them on being number one on soundclick.com and soon had my photo and story across the whole town, eventually been ridiculed and tormented for expressing my past oppression, i stood silent, frozen wondering what am i doing? i must of been crazy ( more troubling than my own disability), i was saying to myself should i stop this and hide behind a rock? No i thought i shall continue.
　
After a few more exposures in the paper as a regular feature i was becoming a town star, numerous appearances within three years including the local radio station, eventually i had a call from a woman over the phone who informed me of her book about a disabled boy who had turned to hip hop.  She wrote that book based on me and i had given her the inspiration.   This made me continue. She asked me to come to the local town library where school children were there waiting for me. I was nervous and anxious but i knew i had to do this.  From where i started, in just over 3 years, i was becoming more known by the day.
　
I eventually wanted to create a hip hop group which at the time was creating a buzz, we was touring, playing at different events and supporting the local big names in our county. Then once again things turned horrid, group conflicts arised and the group disbanded, i was left alone again, with a status that was not as rewarding as i thought, sometimes on the bus minding my own business some strangers asked me are you that rapper in the paper? It wasn't fun or good anymore to be known.
　
Through the years I developed my lyrics, my rapping and my music and networked with the biggest names in UK hip hop, eventually producing my best track with a big UK hip hop producer.
　
In 2007 i met my now to be wife, honored a distribution contract and i eventually released my first song, i moved home and as i moved home with my wife to be i was getting hate mail from where i used to live, eventually i had to stop the producing, rapping all together to have a deep breath of fresh air and my wife realizing i needed closure and understanding about helping me understand my persona.  I eventually been diagnosed officially as having asperger's syndrome.
　
Once I found this out, i knew exactly why i had been ridiculed, i knew why i had wanted to make music and i knew then that nothing can stop me in my ventures, finding about my disability never made me feel weak, it made me or the first time strong, very strong.
　
This was a gift to me and i was going to use it, me and my wife set up an organization on a social networking site "stop discrimination against special needs" because i felt victimized, it was just a group i made because i was upset, it wasn't meant to be a group were thousands could join.
　
Over two years other disabled people felt my pain and a movement began, 3,000 people have joined this movement just in the UK, another 5 thousand in South Africa, 1,000 in Romania and two thousand in America which is still growing. As this started i began to think and i thought i need to go to London and voice this out, i need to bring every disabled person together to stop the discrimination which is so wide spread and nothing has been done about it.  my wife and I made a organization and we made a website www.nserd.org which combats all forms of disability discrimination and our aims and goals.
　

Since moving and being married i have been supported unanimously by my wife and her family and i am for ever grateful from the hardship i received not just in music but in general, i am now a fighter, an activist and advocate for disabled people, i am fiercely passionate about the people that care and the people that are disabled, i am fully focused on that issue.
　
Since i have become stronger i have met some rather uneducated rappers who have stated lines such as "I will fight disabled people, f**k em" "you need to sort your mental illness out" " disabled people should not rap" "neurotypicals should not be apart of disabled and should have separate groups....."
　
i was astonished but i thought well you're going to get a backlash of many who believe they know it all and are more powerful, it reminds me of a roman conquest were the Celts push them out of the north and are barracked by the Hadrian's wall indeed this is now where disabled people are at in this century.
　
We are fighting back and i am full runner to make a point.  I have always been rebellious, confronting, and yet i can sustain vulnerability. I am kind, gentle and i have an innocent almost angelic personality with soul of passionate fire.
　
People today want justice weather that be with the governments, the banks or the conspiracies of new world order however theses same people who want truth and unity are ignorant to who have suffered since time began: the undesirables.
　
Since ancient Greece or even before people with disabilities have been used, poked at and ridiculed, from medieval woodcut of witches to circus "freaks", what a lot religious people do not realize is that the majority of all prophets were disabled, any Muslim or Christen who laughs at a disabled person is laughing against gods own prophetical children, these same people are blasphemous against their very own god and prophet, i speak for god because god protects the disabled, disabled are the most valuable to god, not because they are weak or disabled, but because the disabled believe!.
　
One example of a disabled prophet is Mohammed peace be upon him and Moses peace be upon him, and shall we not forget Jesus loved disabled people like his very own.  Therefore I continue this trend today!  Stay Tune for more of my words right here on Poor Magazine/Krip-Hop Nation

By Pj DoubletheTrouble of Northeast of England