Mahogany Musings...

Just my thoughts--right or wrong. Just what I was feelin' at the time. - Jay-Z

8:15 a.m. -- Okay, so I admittedly have lent my share of haterade to Kanye (Or bighead Kanyeeze as I like to call him.) I love his production skills (see Jay's "Encore" and Talib's "Just to Get By".) But, I've always felt like he raps like he takes the short and yellow bus to school. Perhaps that's ignant... *cough* ...Anyways, however much I clown, the best of his tracks make up for any of his flowicist deficiencies. A case in point, a song I can't stop playing on I-tunes (on my computer)... "Diamonds from Sierra Leone." Every morning, I've been waking up to Shirley Bassey singing "Diamonds are forever/ They won't leave in the night/ There's no fear that they might hurt me/ Diamonds are forever, forever, forever ... Forever, FOREVAH!" Love it in all it's fabulousity. All of it's drama, pomp and circucmstance. This week, Mr. West also made the cover of Time where they've called him the "smartest man in pop music". Hmm... anyone else see a wittle stwetch here? But, okay, I won't judge a book by it's ... well, you know. So, I'm all about poring through it on the ride in today.

9:55 a.m. -- Okay once again, I am on C.P.T. *Geez, I can't stand it! I'm going to need not to have the black time gene anymore. For the love of all...* Anyways, I'm on the BX2 express bus sitting next to some lady who smells like moth balls and cough syrup. I'm reading the Time piece or trying to...by mentally beaming myself out of the bus and away from the moth balls. Okay, now that I have shut down my sense of smell, I can concentrate. Hmm... first thought. Really well-written. Much smarter take than a stodgy newsmagazine usually comes up with. *Reading further* Witty. I'm sold... Kanye is funny as usual. Conflates angels in a Prague cathedral with a need to cast big-boneded women in his "Diamonds" video. It appears, the construction of contradiction. But, this, it seems, is his calling. It's how "Jesus Walks" can be on the same CD as that song about the ho workout. Irony is the stuff of life. *Pausing momentarily to strike the pose of Rodin's Thinker* I'll take it. That is until I get to the "hip hop for dummies chart" that accompanies the piece. Uhm... how in the ham sammich does one make a chart of such and omit Common Sense... and KRS...wow...and Mos, Kweli, The Roots, MC Lyte... Now, obviously all the peeps couldn't fit on such a list. But these are big omissions. *Imagining the big pile of verbally mangled complaint letters the mag's gonna get this week* LOL... Mista mail reader, sucks to be you :)

10:20 a.m. - 6:00 p.m. -- Switching gears here... I'm doing entirely too much work today/yesterday/ the day/ week before. I haven't been able to do my compulsive e-mail checks. No calls to catch up on TV (*Start of plug* In case you were wondering how my cousin fared on SoapNet's "Who Wants to Be a Soapstar", he made it to the final three people. Shout out to Tou. LOL *End of plug*). What else haven't I been able to do for having to work 10 plus hours straight? Oh yeah, no-- gasp--blog hopping where I habitually soak up the witty underpinnings of the sphere. What's that you say? You mean your editor is watching you like you're *singing* Hey there, how ya doin?/ My name is Harriet, last name Tubman/ I was wonderin' if I could proof this page?/ Maybe fix a graph/ Maybe sweep yo' house/ Here is my work phone/ And you can call me/ But don't forget, the name is Harri. Lawudmercy. I couldn't have been a slave. No jest. They would have had to just shoot me...

7:00, 8:00 p.m.-- Why I am still here?

9:00 p.m. -- Cycle, wash and repeat question. Hrmph...

9:30 -- Heading out... on that midnight train to the Boogie Down. Or on a rare day, driving along on the West Side Highway. Few things are better than watching the George Washington Bridge approach, all blinged out, with Jersey on the left as you follow the North Star home. LOL. And of course you're pushing *cough* 90 mph, so you feel the adrenaline. Of course it's all while chilling out to Patrice Rushen's "Forget Me Nots", blasting J.T. Money and Soleil's "Who Dat?" (threw you for a loop with that one, didn't I? LOL) or singing along to the oh-so-underrated GQ's "I Do Love You." The day's drained away in the music. Rhythm rinses and re-starts. So, by the time I get to catch those eight hours (a must), I'll be ready to -- like Mavis and Pops (Staples) sang -- "do it again."