panya wangari -- ( june 3 to june 9 , 2007)

Sunday, June 03, 2007
rude awakening

Panya on her side , lay sleeping in his arms . She had slid her leg between his and he had wrapped his top leg over hers with his calf gently touching hers . His rod , once wet with life and glistening with her juices , is no longer even sticky -- just dry . Her head resting upon his chest where she had drifted off to sleep while listening to the sound of his heartbeat . Their sleep , the slumber of lovers is deep and blissful . Like heaven . Peaceful . They are happy .

Suddenly , the sound of footsteps outside the van cause him to open his eyes . Through the window , he sees the helmeted silhouette figure dressed in black . The unmistakable shape of a submachine gun held in ready position greets him . Instantly he knows to reach for his own weapon , but it is too late .

Silenced rounds smash through the glass , ripping holes in flesh as they burn their way through . Splintering bones . Destroying organs . He feels the muscles of Panya's body tense as she tries to rise and then go limp as more bullets tear into her head and chest .

As more slugs smack into him , he begins falling. A great heaviness present in his arms and legs as they no longer seem willing to respond to his commands . Everything is moving so slowly as more slugs , now sounding as if from miles away tear into him as he collapses backwards towards the floor . His forearm drapes across Panya's face as her eyes stare blankly at the vehicle's ceiling . How strange her expression looks , he thinks -- unable to move his own head . Her face looks as if caught in mid thought . Expression frozen upon her lifeless form .

The last thing he sees before his own eyes go blank is the beam from a hand light as the helmeted silhouette reaches in through broken window to unlock the van door . The silhouette pauses , shining the hand light over the naked bloodied bodies .

There is silence as the hand light rapidly now grows dimmer --the van darkening --like weak batteries dying . Only darkness can be seen now. But muffled sounds of voices and laughter faintly heard --as if miles away --and steadily drifting farther .

"Not with a whimper , but with a 'bang ' they went out ." he can barely hear ,but knows the voices must be loud as they laugh .

More 'far away' words , followed by more muffled laughter , then nothing . Only darkness . Darkness indistinguishable from more darkness . Nothing .

His eyes open . He inhales in a loud gasp . He leaps awake frantically reaching for his pistol with one hand . His other arm still around her neck as her pillow while Panya holds on to him trying to soothe him .

"You were dreaming , You were dreaming . It's alright , " she whispers .

Looking around him , he returns to reality . Realizes he was lucidly dreaming . He exhales a burst of air . His breathing starts to return to normal . He is sweating and still agitated .

He looks around in the less than half light and is reassured by what he knows is his pistol on the van floor . Exactly where he placed it before disrobing . He climbs into the front section of the van and peers through the windshield. The rest stop is more empty than when he last looked and the volume of highway traffic has slowed considerably .

Checking the rearview mirrors he sees that nothing is behind them . They are alone . He relaxes a little , but now is embarrassed . Panya comes up front and sits in the seat next to him .

" You were dreaming , Baby " she explains . " Talking in your sleep and woke me up . At first I thought you were dreaming you were overseas , ambushing Soviet tanks again . But you called my name . Told me to ' wake up' . "

He drops his head , rubbing his forehead trying to clear away the confusion .

" What were you dreaming about ?" she asks , placing her hand on his shoulder .

"I dreamt we had to move quick to getaway from our fake DEA ' friends ' --from the raid today . We didn't make it , " he says while turning to look at her .

" ooowah" , she frowns . " Well , most dreams aren't prophetic , just sorting the day's events into long term memory , or a warning from the subconscious to stay careful , maybe ." she offers , to cheer him up .

He says nothing . He does not wish to remind her , in case for some reason she has forgotten , that he has been nightly programming his dreams with instructions to reveal to him glimpses of his future . It is one of the technologies that she has also been instructed in .

" It'll be dawn in a while . Let's get cleaned up and dressed . We can sit outside a little bit before we leave . It'll do us both some good . Are you hungry , " she asks .

" I could use a little coffee maybe , " he considers .





Currently listening :
The Complete Columbia Recordings: Miles Davis & John Coltrane
By Miles Davis


Monday, June 04, 2007
spectrum's opposite ends

She takes water from the drinking container and a cloth from the toiletries bag along with soap . She puts on her running sandals and pops open the rear cargo gate of the Element . Wearing nothing but sandals , she hops into the darkness . He watches through the open cargo portal as she squats behind the van and pouring water from the container onto the cloth , bathes her most intimate parts .

It is late , she is naked , the water is unheated and the night air has a chill in it , but no complaints from her . No squawking about the inconveniences . No carping about the '' indignities " . Whatever life throws this woman , she deals with it at ease . None of this ruffles her . " This woman is a queen , " he observes . "Solita , would have pitched a fit by now . "

In his mind he imagines her in the same situation that he and Panya are in and can hear Solita complaining " What do you expect me to do with no hot water ? You expect someone like me to put up with something like this ? Well think again . I didn't fight my way through an Ivy League Institution to be squatting in the cold behind some van in a parking lot --washing my ass in cold water . You better get me to a hotel now , dammit ! "

He realizes there is no comparison between the two women . One is self sufficient . The other is high maintenance . One is looking to assist . The other is looking to be assisted . One looks to what she can do to contribute to others . The other looks solely to how others can contribute to her . One is independent and can take care of herself . The other depends on others to take care of her . He feels pure admiration for one woman . An admiration that is followed by feelings of pure shame for having jeopardized the life of that wonderful woman by his foolish lust for the other .

He questions if when they reach the sanctuary of the quilambo , whether he should resign his position as elder , declaring himself unfit to hold any authority in the temples .

Naked , Panya is standing and stretching in the night air . With the van screening her from inquisitive eyes , she knows only he can see her . He sits absorbed as she stands in "stork pose" balancing elegantly upon one leg . Her arms then outstretch over head , palms turned upwards in the "I ask for rain "posture .

She pauses holding the pose as several minutes pass . The next part of the meditation has her arms rhythmically waving like a great bird flying . Arms moving slowly like palm trees swaying in the wind .

Her great bird skims the water flying low and close to its surface . He cannot see her face in the dark but knows her eyes are closed and she , as immersed in the moment as she was when making love .

Her thigh extends forward like a slowly controlled stab with her leg as the blade , her foot as the point . She leans backwards , both arms and left leg extended into a "T" . With ballerina control , she slowly contracts the "T" , brings the once extended foot to the ground and duplicates the pose with the right leg .

The essence of the sleep dance the temples religiously practice is balance --which through slowness delivers , over time , flexibility --which delivers even greater balance .

To balance one must focus . To focus with balance and flexibility delivers great power . Like the great strength required of a ballerina to stand all her weight on the toes of one foot . And this also , is the essence of sleep dance .

She follows the slow portions with lightning bursts of simulated arm and leg strikes , gouges , joint locks , take downs , throws and breaks . Each technique performed expertly . Sleep dancing cultivates the practitioner's life force energy , leading to greater health . Danced slowly, it calms the mind . Performed quickly it brings endurance , burns calories and becomes a battle dance-- simulating moves and pace of actual combat . Over time , as a preparation for twice daily sitting meditation , the elders of the temples believed it could lead to longevity , personal transformation and mental illumination .

Baba Nikau Horus one of the chief elders of the group who were original founders of the temples is believed to now be close to one hundred years old , still active in the temples leadership and steadfast in his practice of sleep dancing .


She pauses after finishing her dancing , palms touching , head bowed contemplating her experience . Minutes later she climbs back into the van . Sensing that he has been watching her she says , " It's your turn , elder ."

He stretches and does the full version of sleep dancing believed most appropriate to his age and then adds the more youthful , quicker , more strenuous , explosive style to complement it .

When he finally finishes , he sees that she is sitting on the van's oyster- like rear cargo door seat . She is blanketed against the chill wearing only her large fleece shirt . Even in the darkness she can see the sweat pouring down his body from the strenuous form of the dance . Later , as he bathes , she watches . She affectionately helps to towel him off when he is done and hands him his clothing .

"As much as I'd like to sit here and watch you sweat, elder , we'd better prepare to be moving again , as soon as the sun is up . "




Currently listening :
Movin' Along
By Wes Montgomery




Wednesday, June 06, 2007
dawn of the living ...paradigm

Before they make ready to leave , he would like to return to the rest stop's fast food diner to get coffee and newspapers . Snickering , she clears her throat and points towards his head as a reminder of its need for combing. She watches as he gives his head a work over with the pick . Stepping near , acting as his mirror she smoothes his work to a more even appearance by gently patting it down on the top and sides . He kisses her and then she watches with a bit of apprehension as he walks towards the restaurants . They have parked in the lot farthest from the food and fuel areas to avoid the rest stop's other patrons .

While he is away , she warms up the van's engine as she looks through the clothing they have been provided and finds a fresh change of undergarments as well as an aqua colored "Aruba " souvenir T-shirt to put on and tan Capri pants . When he returns she has dressed and also groomed herself into a state of simple but attractive elegance . A slight and pleasant aroma of Egyptian musk can be detected in the van .

He is carrying the restaurant's "Super large" container of " gourmet " coffee as well as two plastic one and one half liter bottles of spring water to replace some of what they have already used . Folded beneath his arm he has morning newspapers which , as they quietly sip coffee , they check carefully , but fail to find any mention of yesterday afternoon's "DEA" raid and shootout at the temples' former safe houses .

" If it had been DEA with two men down , digitized photo mock ups of our descriptions would be splattered all over the media trying to catch us . " What he says , gives voice to what they both already know .

"They 're up to something . " she responds .

"Maybe they're following us , but lagging back to lull us into a false security -- " he begins .

"...Hoping we'll lead them to one of the quilambo sanctuaries or even some of the chief elders ." she interjects , accurately completing his thought .

" Yeah , we'll have to keep moving until it can be determined if we are being sought or not . "

"If it wasn't DEA , you think it could be the "Noble Slime " on our case again ? " she asked .

"Can't say if it was the "No-balls Slime " for sure , but to pull something like that raid in broad daylight in a predominantly white suburban community , they definitely had to be connected --just to keep local police from jumping in . "

" We should have gone after them a long time ago , " she says through clenching jaw muscles . " We might have lost , but at least they wouldn't feel so free to come after us --maybe they'd respect our fighting ability more and would leave us alone ." she offers.

" Yeah , you might be right , but they've always had the political connections that we didn't have --still don't have , " he considered .

"It's like the battles between the Policy Kings and the various white ethnic mafias back in the 20's , 30's , and 40's , " he points out to her .

" Yes, I remember you lecturing , on that topic " , she recalls .

"Do you now ?" he challenges . " What exactly do you remember ?"

"You said that ' policy ' was one of the names we had for the number games that blacks ran all over the urban US in the early part of the past century . "

"Yes , and what else ?" he asks testing her .

" In the era of Jim Crow apartheid , policy was the biggest thing going in the black communities in terms of economic viability. It served as an informal banking ,and mutual aid institution . " she answers after a moment .

" Good . What else do you remember ? "

" It wasn't a monolithic operation , it was a collection independent operators who later formed a loose coalition-- an informal confederation -- when things grew large enough that they needed some type of organization to prevent incursions into each other's territories and to arbitrate disputes among themselves . "
" Good , very good " his praise was genuinely inspired .

" Most people --even some in the temples fall asleep during my lectures . They don't see what I'm getting at , or they get the point but don't see the implications and then get mad at me because I keep plugging away , hammering it home to get it sufficiently planted into deeper levels so that the realization finally takes root and steadily grows powerful enough to effectively change their behavior --that's when you know that people have really learned something --you know that they've learned because they change what they do ."

"The behaviors that once led to defeat are effectively identified , effectively get changed -- get efficiently corrected and the losing then becomes victory ."

" That's why we lecture about history --so people see the patterns that cause defeat and then successfully exorcise them from individuals' personality , beliefs , behaviors and then not only is the individual transformed but so is the group--what is a group but individuals in concert like an orchestra ? "

She found herself as usual , enraptured with the breadth of his knowledge and equally impressed with how he was able to identify the shared qualities of what appeared to be disconnected experiences and then not only show how they were similar , but he was able to generalize a pattern --clearly discern a useful operating rule of thumb that could be used to identify the dynamic of the bigger picture at work .

Which of course , was a useful skill for those totally dedicated to the realization of a paradigm shift in the global perspective of her people that effectively results in sufficient group cohesion and necessary overachievement required to successfully identify , adroitly nullify and fully triumph over
any racial oppression , or discrimination that her people experience .

And Panya somehow knows that this lecture as she recalls it eight years after he first presented it , was delivering a highly profound impact at the deepest levels of her view of her essential self and her role she is to play in the world


Currently listening :
First Light
By Freddie Hubbard


Thursday, June 07, 2007
organized slime families

"Also as I recall from your lecture , ' policy ' was often based on sometimes as much as a 600 to 1 payoff . You bet a dollar and if your number came up you would win six hundred . Almost no bet was too small , even a nickel , so any one could play and most played religiously . " she added .

" Good memory , " he commented . " But what happened as the policy wheels grew more prosperous ?"

"Umm , the owners gave back to the community ." she responded .

"Right , and what were some of the ways they gave back to the community ?" he questioned .

"They acted as community banks , credit unions , and loaned money to our people and to our entrepreneurs when the white banks refused . They donated money to churches and charities and helped build black churches . They gave college scholarships to promising students , they gave money helping the black colleges . They were patrons of the black press and helped provide seed money for a few of the newer black newspapers . They helped sponsor the Negro baseball leagues . They saw themselves as race men and women and were the philanthropists of our community . Black doctors , lawyers , black real estate brokers , black car dealerships , restaurateurs , writers , artists of the Harlem Renaissance , successful blacks all over the country -- All owed a debt to policy --Policy promoted black business . "

"What caused the demise of the policy kings and queens ? " was his next question .

" Umm... At first they were able to operate under the radar of the white establishment . This gave them time to grow in popularity and strength until just about every adult in the black community either played regularly or personally knew someone who played regularly --even ministers and church folk regularly played --policy was that widespread .

But once the whites found out about it , the white politicians went after it -- especially during election time --as part of the usual " get tough on Negro crime" campaign --'street crime' , is now the code word they use instead of the old 'Negro crime ' label . Of course after the elections were over, the white police and politicians would demand payoffs and kickbacks from the policy wheel owners to let them operate relatively unobstructed ."

"So what changed all that ? " he inquired .

" Well , It went on like that for a while until white ethnic crime gangs got wind of how much money was involved in policy. I think the first , or at least the most infamously known was the gangster known as ' Dutch Shultz ' in New York . Am I correct ? " she asks .

"Yeah ' Dutch Shultz ' --Arthur Fleggenheimer --was his real name . He gets the credit for recognizing that the amount of money policy was taking in was enormous . Al Capone --crime boss of Chicago-- looked down his nose at policy as too little for him to bother with --called it 'nigger pennies ' , " the elder responds .

"But Shultz saw the potential and went to war against the policy kings of New York " she continues .


" And the policy queens -- don't forget them , especially madam St. Claire , " he reminds .

"Yes , the Queen of policy in Harlem , Madam St. Claire , " she replies , correcting her oversight .

"But Shultz had political connections , the policy owners tried but could never establish the reliable political connections with the white political 'gangs' --political machines of the democratic and republican parties that the white organized crime families--the Irish --the Italian , the Jewish crime families could use bribe and rely upon ."

" Right , you've got it . " he comments . " Madam St. Claire would complain in the newspapers that the white police officials and white city hall politicians would demand payoffs from her , accept her bribe money and still raid her operations and arrest her people . "

"So it wasn't just the white mobsters that the Madam St. Claires and policy owners had to fight against -- they were double teamed by the mobsters AND the white political machines and their police departments --all working in league together to destroy the policy kings and queens who refused to bow down , give up control of the policy game over to the white crime gangs --allowing the black community to be economically drained by the whites ." she observes .

" Exactly , " he gestures with his index finger for added emphasis . "If Black policy men carried weapons to defend themselves ,
the police would harrass them -- See someone they suspected of working for a policy organization and immediately stop and frisk them .
Arrest with policy slips and a weapon meant a long jail stretch for a blackman or woman .

But the police turned a blind eye to armed white mobsters gunning down and killing black policy owners and workers-- IN the black community .

When it comes to us, they are ALL corrupt and criminal --the law does not apply --even bribing them doesn't offer any protection to us from their violence .

And this is key --their crime families were violent-- ' murder incorporated ' type operations from the start --They went from violent beginnings as protection rackets , 'murder for hire' and committing ethnic violence on themselves and opposing groups upon their arrival in America in the waves of immigration in the 1880s to World War One --to violent turf wars among competing gangs of bootleggers during prohibition in the 20's and 30's --And after prohibition , violent strike breakers and ' murder for hire ' gangs working as leg breakers for both sides during the upheavals of the labor movement --to violent drug trafficking in the post war era of 40's , 50's , 60's , 70's .

Policy , in comparison to the ethnic white crime families , wasn't overtly violent --wasn't based upon violence -- never was --it ALWAYS had to be based on building long term cooperation from CUSTOMERS and giving back and recycling our dollars throughout the community --rather than use , loot and kill . "

"With them it's always armed robbery --robbery of us by them--money leaving our communities to make them rich .

They're not building anything , they're destroying --like the sack of Troy , or Carthage --with us it's about building something --whatever WE build THEY destroy and loot --the pattern is clear and unchanging over the last three thousand years .

What's the difference between what Dutch Shultz , Meyer Lansky , Ony Madden and Lucky Luciano did to Harlem policy , and what the Greeks did to Troy , or the Romans to Carthage , or the white Aryas did to Black India , or the white-skinned Chou did to Black Shang in ancient China ?

Kill the Blacks . Loot the Blacks . And keep looting the Blacks . It's their pathway to quick wealth . Our pathway to death , humiliation and poverty . It never changes .

What's the difference between that and the looting going on by whites and Asians in Africa today ?

Somebody beats your ass and robs you enough times --One day you wise up and say 'enough' --if you have enough sense and enough balls to act on reality --act on what your own history is clearly telling you .

Successfully removing the black slave mentality historically imposed on us by these white crime families-- murdering , looting and robbing us over the centuries -- means...amazingly... reacquiring enough common sense and reacquiring enough balls to understand what history is repeatedly telling us --over and over again -- boldly acting on objective reality --logically acting on what the history of black people is clearly , unmistakably telling us --it means finally healing our wounded self esteem --finally making peace with the warring parts of our inner selves--it means finally releasing our natural ingenuity -- effectively putting our talents , wealth and resources towards rebuilding our world --rebuilding our commercial empires --and finally --it means NEVER allowing what we build to be taken from us --especially by the violence-loving Organized Slime Families of the world . "

The elder grew momentarily silent as it became his turn to also reflect on this lecture that he had given many, many times to so many different audiences over the years and how remarkably it still had a profound impression on how he viewed himself and his mission in life ...now and on-going into the future .



Currently listening :
Talking Book
By Stevie Wonder


Friday, June 08, 2007
organized slime families -cont.

"The mobsters knew what they were doing ." the elder continued as Panya listened .

" They may not have been scholars but they knew that what they were doing in robbing the blacks had historical precedence . They knew enough of their own people's history , who their ancestors had made claim to fame upon .They built their empires on looting and pillaging conquered blacks of the Mediterranean world . This knowledge later buoyed them in the process of taking the policy empires away from the modern blacks . To them it was an expression of the natural order of things . It was the way things worked ."

" Where the black community failed --and failed miserably --was in its continued loyal support of policy even after it was clear that all of the independent policy wheels --the organizations that ran policy games were either directly under the thumb of the white mobsters and corrupt city hall political machines , or wiped out -- dead ."

" The lion's share of the black community's policy money flowed into the pockets of the white ethnic crime families and their corrupt allies in the white city hall political machines --they're crime families too . The mobsters gave nothing back to the black community --drained it economically --but blacks continued loyally playing and making policy bets --making white folks richer . It doesn't make sense . "

" Group cohesion among Italians would have prevented them from buying a single drop of olive oil if black mobsters had somehow muscled in and violently taken over the Italian olive oil business . They would have used anything other than olive oil in their cooking rather than put Italian money in black pockets."

" Italians would use dirty motor oil in their cooking before doing business with Blacks , if blacks took control of the Italians' olive oil business . But blacks --After Italian , Irish and Jewish mobsters violently take our policy empire --we keep on playing ---keep on patronizing it --while they daily drain tons of money out of our pockets --it defies all logic --it makes no sense . And unfortunately speaks volumes about how far from common sense we have fallen as a people ."

" It's been estimated that in its heyday during Jim Crow era of the 20's , 30's and 40's that policy was the largest black enterprise in the entire world , drawing in annually $200 million in proceeds from the black community --about $10 billion a year in today's dollars . Policy built dormitories at black colleges . Policy financed the Negro baseball leagues . "

" Policy put black politicians into office . Policy was behind the shift when blacks switched their support from the republican party --the party of Lincoln to the democratic party-- the party of Roosevelt . It was policy that built black churches . It was policy that bolstered the black newspapers and through the black newspapers helped turn the northern migration of blacks after the first World war into a flood --an exodus from the cotton fields and sharecropping that turned blacks from a rural agrarian people in to the urban people we are today --Now when you say the word 'urban ' --as in the term 'urban contemporary music ' -- it automatically means blacks ."

" This all shows the influence policy had in shaping the modern black community . It also hints at the devastation that the loss of the control of the policy commercial empires caused in black communities."

" It tells us the lessons that we must learn and also the beauty in the concept of the Temples --We are the vehicle to fill the role in our communities that policy once had. We are the vehicle to promote and feed the entrepreneurial drive of our people --We excel in business -- the creation of values out of nothing --What we don't excel at is in defending what we have built and keeping others from stealing from us ."

" Other groups understand that the path to quick wealth is to muscle in --either with tommy guns , or with ink pens and contracts -- and steal something black folks have created . We need to fix this glaring defect in our character that we allow these various ethnic crime families to rob us . "

He pauses and they sit , each carried off inside their own thoughts for a while . Finally it is Panya who breaks the silence .

" Do you think the ' Noble Slime ' were behind the raid yesterday , elder? " she asks .

" Yes , it's likely . Also likely that it's my fault that they found us . And I need to do something about it , " he answers quietly .



Currently listening :
The World Is a Ghetto
By War




Saturday, June 09, 2007
love is blue

"What ? But how is it your fault ? " she disbelievingly asks .

He sighs heavily and lowers his head in shame . "It's not an easy thing to say. " he responds quietly .

"Tell me , " she insists . " I have nothing but time so you have a captive audience here . Please explain ."

Knowing that there was no pleasant way to hurt someone , he hesitated at first in telling her what he did not wish to mention , but Panya's look of insistence was unyielding . A woman single-minded in her determination to get what she wanted , was what he could see that she had also become .

" Panya , I made a mistake in judgment , a bad one , with that woman Loabe kept babbling about when you arrived --Solita . It happened about the time that you and I were having those difficulties --Well , I mean about the time that ' I ' was having difficulty in reconciling the age thing between us . " he stumbled .

" So what you're trying to say is that you turned me away because of my age and then went to her --that Solita wench the Loabe guy was looking for . " she summarized coldly .

" And to make things worse , you brought her to the Temple safe houses , didn't you ? And that's how they knew where to find us . Is that how yesterday's raid was your fault ? " she asked with a demeanor as emotionless as she had been passionate only a brief while before .

" Did you ' do ' her in the safe houses ? Is that how she knew the location ? And then her man --that Loabe idiot you had tied to a chair --did he follow her there and got jumped by you ? Is that how all this mess happened -- ' elder ' ?" her voice's naked sarcasm in saying the word "elder" cut him like razors .

" You were doing her in the house so her boyfriend wouldn't find out . But he finds out anyway , that you're doing Solita in the houses you are supposed to be overseeing renovations on to make them suitable to the Temples needs . He follows her there . DEA , or ' Noble Slime ' follow him there --raid the places -- And I -- To protect your life --I have to live with shooting down-- possibly killing -- two of them to save you and save that Loabe idiot --And the Temples lose all the expense we've put into buying and renovating two houses --All because of an old man's reckless vanity and your weakness for some new ' young ass ' . " Without raising her voice , the sense of disillusionment now filling her silence is deafening .

He cannot speak . He cannot bring himself to try and defend what he knows is his own inexcusable stupidity .

" How old was she ? " Panya finally asks , unable for the moment to look at him .

"About 34 , " he replies quietly .

" 'About ' ? she glares " What do you mean 'about' ? You don't know how old she was ? You seem to know every Goddamm thing else in the world --but you don't know her age ? " her anger revealing itself .

" Panya ..."

" Don't Panya me , bastard , " she growls in a low voice . "You are just another 'dirty old man' --chasing after young stuff ."

Again he cannot answer . In frustration her floodgates eventually burst .

"You know , when you first told me that we had made a mistake --that it was wrong for us to be together because you were too old for me and I was too young for you --I actually believed you were an honorable man --that you were rejecting me out of some sense of honor . That you were rejecting me because you were decent and good and not like the rest of the lecherous old men out there in the world , preying on young pussy . "

"Panya ... let me explain somethi ..." he tries to say .

" ' Explain ' my ass , " she interjects .

" I am a trained Simba --a certified combat master in two weapons , an expert martial artist , a successful business woman , highly educated , fluent in two foreign languages , a chess tournament winner , a member in good standing of the Temples for close to a decade , a dedicated student of our people's history who was willing to share her life with you --Willing to be an old grey head man's life partner and even willing to bear his old ass some children --And you turned me down for that useless , bougie , self-hating , white man's dollar-hungry bed wench ? --How could I be such a poor judge of character ? " she responds with a stinging coldness .



Currently listening :
It Serves You Right to Suffer
By John Lee Hooker