Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Saturday, December 27, 2008



Friday, December 26, 2008



Thursday, December 25, 2008

Holiday Bullshit

Gabcast! A.S.I.A. Talk #60 - Emblem builds about the NGE and Holidays

How Gods and Earths get through the emotions that come with holidays.

Greatest 3 Rounds Ever

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Friday, December 19, 2008


The Egos of Rappers don’t have shit on ours, Athletes aren’t in our league, Hollywood actors and actress’s egos who bicker about salaries and scripts don’t compare to our diva like, prima-donna attitudes. Writers are the greatest Megalomaniacs in History. Writers wrote ‘History’, and told the ‘Story’ from their biased point of view. Writers define world news, religion, popular culture, political strategies and even the corny jokes of late night talk show host. Writers write the scripts for our favorite movies that touch our heart; the law books that shape jurisprudence; the text books that educate our children; fiction books that shape our imagination; political speeches that define our leaders and every other form of popular propaganda is defined by movafuckuz like yours truly. We ‘literally’ define history, we shape perspective with words and in the process interject our ideas. People are informed based on what they read, so since we write what all people read we effect the global paradigm of the average individual. I had to step away from the keyboard for a second, and look at all the other egos sitting in front of keyboards.
This is the second time in my life I have written for nearly a year straight; The first time I ended up with 5 fiction novels. Now I have nearly two hundred blogs: Will I publish them? Naw! It was actually my idea that Deen publish his Asia journal. I was suppose to publish mine, but then I looked in the mirror and told myself to get a ‘grip’ movafucka. Why are you so special that movafuckuz are gonna buy some shit that you originally presented for free? “Turn it down a notch Emblem!”, I told myself in the mirror, “And who the fuck is Emblem any movafuckin way? You Sha-Sha from Pelon nigga, remember them roaches in the Frosted Flakes box?! Remember that mice shit on top of the refrigerator that looked like black ice cream sprinkles? Remember them worn out Adidas you had to rock for a year straight that movafuckuz in the six grade were laughing at behind your back? Remember the time movafuckuz stuck you up at fourteen and took your sneakers!? When you ‘remember’ the trials of the past it puts the ego in perspective. So calm your ass down Em’. My Pen name is Emblem, but Sha Sha is the force behind Emblem. Emblem is only a mask like Zoro and shit, but Sha is that real Movafucka. Sha comes from a family tree of Samurais-from the Father to First Born Prince to Ahad Knowledge Born, to Life Allah, to Yours Truly. Sha is a Sincere Movafucka, and sometimes I call shit so right and exact it hurts others. I know I’m sincere, because I know when I’m on some bullshit, most niggaz don’t know when they on bullshit. Once I accused Deen of ‘McDonalizing’ the culture of I-God with his You-Tube builds. When I first heard about that shit I was pissed, because I felt like that You Tube shit made that which was sacred cheap. I got over it! Preserved the best part for myself, did the knowledge on what was good about the You tube bullshit and moved on! I still have my reservations. I walked with the nigga one degree at a time and now the shit is plastered on YouTube (you damn right I was pissed). Vanity is the Ego’s twin sister, and the Nigga can’t get out the mirror. Vanity and writing are linked. I strive not to allow my ego nor my vanity to seep into my art: ‘A Sketch of Tranquility’ is a piece I am writing in another blog, ideally I would like it to be published one day as a novel and the blog is basically a portfolio. Either way it goes I’m still Sha. Writers need to get off their self righteous high horses and give their Enlightener a call before he takes a trip to Niagra Falls and is sittin’ out on your porch like Tony ‘Movafuckin’ Soprano. I heard Niagara Falls is Beautiful this time of Year!

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Friday, December 12, 2008


A lot of movafuckuz be frontin’ on Oprah, but I’m not one of them. I’m partial to Oprah, we have a lot in common(not the money): We are both born in ‘The Week of The Genius’(January 23-January 30), so I feel connected to the Queen in an astrological sense, so as a fellow Aquarian I can see into her emotional world deeper than those who always have something negative to say about her. Yes, like everyone else I was alarmed to see her put on all that weight, when I saw her, my jaw dropped and I asked her, mouthing quietly at the 73 inch flat screen TV in Best Buy, “What the fuck is wrong wit chu Ma!” I know-everyone thinks they know celebrities personally- but I’m different, no one reads character better than me. When it comes to people I can call shit like a dice roll: from cowards; to the arrogant; to the insecure movafucka with a false sense of self importance. My insight into people is sharper than the highest paid psychiatrist in Manhattan who charges $400 an hour. When the born degree implied to me to never take things on face value I may have taken it a bit to the extreme. My Enlightener use to build a whole lot and that blessed me with the gift of an analytical ear. My Enlightener made me a ‘Listener’, and living in big cities allowed me to hone the power of keen observation into an individual’s body language. Whether riding the 48 bus in Philly, the L in the Chi or the 2 train in Brooklyn I learned to ‘do the knowledge’, and as I did the knowledge on Oprah I saw her problem. Stedman is her problem: Yelp! Guess why? He is a Pisces! A Pisces is not a bad sign, but it is a bad sign for an Aquarius in terms of love, relationships and all that shit! “Why is Pisces not a good sign for an Aquarius Emblem?” A Pisces is emotionally very murky, and too cerebrally foggy. They are the humid cloud to an Aquarian’s natural emotional need to breath fresh air. Pisces in relationships with Aquarians throw the usually sharp Aquarian off with emotional ambiguity. I know this first hand, I kicked it with a Pisces bitch for wisdom and a half years. The bitch was swift and changeable as fuck, and no matter what-it would effect me emotionally, she threw my emotional navigation system off tremendously. As I wrote in the beginning of the blog I have the ability to read the shit out of movafuckuz, but I could not read that Pisces bitch for nothing. She was emotionally awkward, and her emotional vocabulary was very limited. In the book ‘Sula’ by Toni Morrison Sula’s quirky emotional world is very similar to that of the Pisces I was kicking it with: she was highly intriguing but completely unresponsive to normal emotional stimuli. Toni describes Sula as an Artist with no art, and Ms. Morrison goes on to write that such is a great tragedy (something like that). Oprah can’t solve the complex Piscean puzzle that is Stedman. She has interviewed damn near every famous person in the world but has yet to conclude her 20 year plus interview with Stedman Graham. The Solution to the Piscean addiction for the probing Aquarian is to realize that Stedman himself doesn’t understand his own emotional complexity. “Show and prove Emblem!” Bobby Fischer is perhaps the greatest chess player in recent memory, he beat the Russians at their own game. Bobby Fischer was a recluse, he was completely incapable of emotional intimacy and lived his life in an emotional cave. Stedman Graham is born on March 6, Bobby Fischer is born on March 9-in Astrology this Week is called, ‘The Week of the Loner’. Oprah looks like she ate a Volkswagon and is depressed because she’s trying to connect with a man who is emotionally not there. She needs to leave his movafuckin’ ass alone, say “fuck it” and 'keep it moving'!

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Dear President Elect Obama,

Look God, I saw that shit on CNN where you said shit(economy) is going to get worst before it gets better.” Naw dawg I can’t let that type shit ride, you got exactly 24 hours from the day you get inaugurated, and sworn the fuck in to fix shit. The devil’s mental and physical power is less than one third that of the Original Man, meaning your ass ain’t on white people time, you on Asiatic World time. You damn right I want a fuckin miracle movafucka. You are a fuckin miracle, your black ass became the President in the most racist country on the planet Earth. South Africa is racist but they had they first black president 20 years before the U.S. so believe it or not movafucka your very existence is a God Damn miracle. You made history and I expect another miracle, make shit happen like Jordan in the fourth quarter. Bulls use to be down, and Phil Jackson say, “I ain’t even got to tell yall movafuckuz who to give the ball to!” Thatz right, M movafuckin’ J, number twenty movafuckin’ three! It is the fourth quarter Obama and on 120(January 20) they gonna put the ball in your hands officially, take that rock through the lane and dunk that movafucka, get the foul, go to the line, make the free throw and when the recession gets the ball, strip their point guard and dunk that movafucka again. We 15 points down with three minutes to go before a depression, so you gotta hustle dawg, even if Michelle got to baby sit, do hair, while your hustlin’ nickel bags of funk out the back of the White House you gotz to get that economy up Dawg. Air Obama movafucka! You got no time to miss no shots, get you some weed, Grey Goose or whatever it is you do to get your mind right and make shit happen fam. Everybody talkin’ ‘bout ‘don’t expect no miracles’, movafucka I’m not one of them. I want that shit done. If they looked up miracle in the dictionary your face would be right next to Jesus’-so you damn right I want you to strip the recession’s point guard at mid court and leap from the foul line like Mike and dunk that movafucka. The worst numbers in the last thirty four years regarding the economy were posted last month-Naw movafucka, it is ‘MJ’ time, you from the Chi too(kind of), you damn right I want a fuckin miracle in the fourth quarter, so get them hands chalked up, wipe ‘em off on your shorts and do that goofy ass MJ walk to center court, chew your gum like a cow, get that look in your eye that MJ use to have and bring that MJ like performance to the oval office. No more negative talk, make that shit better Son.
Emblem(The Secretary of Enlightenment)


I have already built on the fact that I had to go live with my Old Earth in Medina in born build, niggaz came to get me and I had to become a Mystery God with da quickness! Living with my Old Earth at Wisdom Build years old was some hard shit for my ego to swallow; taking out the trash; going to the store; and lving by her rules in general was a nightmare. My Old Earth has no love for the Five Percenters, she understands the teachings, she was an MGT Captain, and a teacher at the University of Islam in Philly, so she is no slouch when it comes to the knowledge. What she hates is the fact that Gods and Earth look like a piss poor organization, and border line gang, on many occassions I have explained how the Father drew math up, but she was not feeling it. We are nothing but a splinter group of street wise, slick talking gang members in her mind. My first day back living with her, she lays down the rules, and basically she said any Five percenter notions of male dominance will not be tolerated. In my mind I am figuring out how long will it take me to move the fuck out, get another dope connect and get out the fucking prison house she was building. The Mighty Emblem had chores at wisdom build years old, definitely not one of my finest moments. I had no clothes, basically I had to leap out the back window of my apartment to save my life, and leave everything behind.
My old Earth had two cats; Misha; and September. Misha was a diva who thought she was the sexiest movafuckin' animal on Allah's Earth, and September was an obese, greedy bitch! My Old Earth was very attached to both these cats, she would talk to them cats like they were human, she treated them cats better than me. Emblem is not a cat person as you can tell, and my mother knows this. When I was 6 I had a puppy named Ghanja whom I loved,(my mother was going through a heavy marijuana phase after Elijah returned back to essence hence the puppie's name 'Ghanja'). At 10 my mother bought a cat, and named him Pharoh. I use to kick the shit out of Pharoh. 18 years had elapsed since I lived with a cat and my old Earth still thought I was capable of the same cruel behavior toward cats.
One day September came up missing! I ain't know what happened, when my mother couldn't find September she started looking at me like I murdered the cat. I knew what my mom was thinking, she kept questioning me as to my knowledge as to the events that led up to the disappearance of September. "When was the last time you saw September?" "How do you explain the bloody glove?" She made me feel like O.J..
And she kept interrogating me like It was an episode of CSI or Law and Order. Finally the fat ass cat was found a week later in the basement of the Brownstone, stuck between some window bars. September wasn't dead, but do you think my Old Earth apologized for pointing her accussatory finger? Hell No!

Educator VS. Enlightener

I am of those amongst us that use the term ‘Enlightener’ as opposed to ‘Educator’. Educator is way too ‘Western’ (colored) of an idea for my taste and lacks the concept of companionship, patience and brotherhood-concepts so eloquently mentioned in the Wisdom God degree in the knowledge to culture the ciphers. Usually you will hear Gods from my family tree use the phrase ‘Walk With’ in a manner reminiscent of Jesus ‘Walking With’ his disciples wearing some dusty ass sandals. My Enlightener, Life Justice explained to me early on that an Enlightener is one who illuminates light in another to show said person the Knowledge and Wisdom already present within them. When I think of ‘Education’ I think of indoctrination into a Nazi like training unit. Yes, it is definitely a petty distinction amongst family treez, but it has been something that I desired to address for approximately wisdom years. The first person I heard use the term was Eboni Joi, and I was like what da fuck is an ‘Educator’? Enlightenment is on some ‘Eastern’ Shit, Wise Man From the East type shit, and in my mind it allows the student to realize his ownself in terms of his or her individuality. Individuality is sacred-‘divine’ are those things which are sacred. An Enlightener illuminates the Good and Bad in said person, so that said God or Earth may cee his or her positive and negative qualities. In all of the students that I have ‘Walked With’ I have allowed them to discover the best part and the poor part of their core self from their cowardice to their hyper aggressiveness. My Enlightener discovered that my poor part was that I was prepared to Enlighten anybody (I was naïve). At one point I thought I could born knowledge to any Black movafucka on two feet. The way he corrected me was mad swift, he said I had to pay better attention to said person, and qualify or disqualify critically as to whether or not they are the said person of that ability. In his words he told me that I had to analyze the character of a person better. He was like a boxing trainer telling his fighter to get closer to land a punch. After he told me that-I began to think more about the students I took on and the innate qualities with in them. Once I had a student who was super sincere and truly desired 120 but could not get past the 1-10. He was diagnosed by psychologist as dyslexic and that he had a severe learning disability. As a young God I gave no credence to the diagnosis of Doctors given the fact that the Wisdom Build in the knowledge to culture ciphers Doctors, Ministers, Nurses and Cremator’s rule was to disqualify black babies from birth. I built with said God until my brain and his brain was bleeding. That plane crashed and burned horribly. You could cee the sincerity in his eyes, he wanted this Math bad, but he had a real learning disability. He was in learning disability classes throughout School. I argued with this God’s Old Dad that his Sun could learn 120, and his Old dad just laughed. This God was brave, he had no issues with cowardice, he stood by my side when niggaz came for my ass (he was a big movafucka) and I know for a fact that some of my most mentally gifted students would have ran like bitches. The God’s brain was not physiologically capable of clicking on all cylinders. He is God regardless to whom or what but he could not be ‘educated’ in the sense of the world ‘Education’, however he was ‘Enlightened’.

Saturday, December 6, 2008


Thursday, December 4, 2008

"I'm from where niggaz argue all day about who's the best rapper; Jay-Z, Biggie or Nas"-Jay-Z
I have seen dudes about to come to blows over these rappers. Who is the best? Well BIG wins hands down, but that's because he returned back to essence and he became the legendary Biggie Smalls. But there still is the matter of the other two. Since Big is gone Jay-Z held BK down best he could, kept with the street shit, flosses a little more than he may care to admit but I guess flossing comes with a few hundred million dollars in the bank and the priviledge to lay next to one of the finest shorties on the planet Earth. When Jay and Nas started beefing I lived in Brooklyn and the whole city was abuzz about the beef of the two hip hop giants. Nas was the financial under dawg and Jay-Z's ego was probably bigger than the moon at that time. I don't quite remember how it all started but it got ugly, Jay-z and Nas's baby's mother may have gotten it all started but I think Jay was the initiator. Me and my sister had a discussion about the whole thing then, and I learned a value lesson, the lesson came off my lips: "Let the dead stay dead!". What I meant by that is that Jay was on top of the world at the time, hands down he was the heavyweight champion of rap and Nas was a long way from the glory days of Illmatic. I was a Nas head or should I say an Illmatic head back in the day and I still love Illmatic, but somehow he fell off, I dug Nas's second album-cops kicked my door in and it was blasting, by that time I had vacated the crib, but that was what I'm sure the Narcotics officers heard playing(Nas is Coming), but after that second Album I wasn't feeling too much of anything that came out of Nasir Jones' mouth. Nas kind of fell by the waisteside and Jay blew the fuck up on that multi millionaire super celebrity rapper bullshit, so yes I bought into Jay, the glitz, the floss, the street, the under current of the street anthem Reasonable Doubt still ringing and all the other super floss lyrics. His lyrics are always good for driving a whip smoothly on a summer day, but when he started the beef with Nas he opened up a can of lyrical worms and woke a sleeping giant, if Jay would have kept Nas's name out of his mouth, Nas would have remained buried in the graveyard with other former hip hop greats. The beef between the two giants made Nas find his A game again and he ripped Jay a new asshole in Ether. The moral of the story is-if you don't want beef-keep a niggaz name out your mouth. Is this coming from the fingers of the carnivore Emblem? You damn right! Jay gave Nas life again. When Jay poked at Nas he bit off more than he could chew, of course Jay has the most money and fame still but why take a fight you don't need? Nas was the wrong dead rapper to resurrect from a mental death, pick your fights wisely is in the back of every good boxing trainer's mind-never fight old sparring partners and never fight someone who has nothing to loose. A great fighter doesn't even bring up the name of a down and out hungry fighter. Sugar Ray Leonard was on top of the world at one point and Aaron Pryor wanted to get at that ass, but Sugar declined, not so much because of fear, but because there was more money to be made elsewhere-and who the hell needs a tough fight with a mad man with nothing to loose. It is not a question of bravery, it is a question of chess like engagement, why engage a minor piece when your objective is the King(Success)?

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

What Snow Means To Me!

Today it is snowing, “..when this midst strikes a cold current it becomes solid ice in small round drops in form or in a light fluffy form which is caused snow..” When I think of the ‘fluffy form’ I think of being wrapped in the arms of a wisdom watching a movie and blowing and L back and forth. That is only one angle of how I cee the degree on another angle I think of ‘Flaky movafuckuz’. What is a "Flaky Movafucka"? In my mind a ‘Flaky movafucka' is wishy washy, swift and changeable, moody and lacking fortitude in terms actual self awareness. They want something but they don’t quite know what it is. I suppose we have all been flaky at one time or another, but as we mature flakiness should indeed dissipate from are conscious realm particularly when we embark upon the path of true Self Knowledge. Flaky movafuckuz are ambiguous in their communications, they are not direct, and aren’t fully aware of who they are. Flakiness last in women until motherhood and in men to about 33. By the age of 33 a man should know his path, and be set on it. Yes we have all been flaky at one time, not all of us have been as fortunate as Yacob to find are determined idea at 6, so we search for what we think exist within ourselves, sometimes finding and sometimes not finding are determined idea. When we understand that God is what we should be excavating from within we have to learn how that aspect of God or Earth in ourselves should be expressed via character. Most artist are flaky, as a writer who practices his craft on a daily basis writing allows me the luxury of organizing my thoughts and ideas. Other artist such as painters, poets, and musicians may have a harder time at organizing their ideas. Flaky movafuckuz are hard to do business with, they are poor and ambiguous communicators unable to say what they mean. So on this day of snow I think about the beauty of being within a refined Queen’s embrace and the flaky movafuckuz of the world who haven’t fully mastered the science of communication.
Last night I built with my Enlightener, me and DaGod often build about the neighborhood we grew up in: North Philly; Norris Street; Land of The War Toys; A.K.A. The Terror Dome! We built about the principles we learned there, and particularly the science of the ‘Fareone’. A ‘Fareone’ is a fight between you and whoever, before crack hit my hood it was ‘Fareone’ Central, Old folks on porches, children eating penny candy and other onlookers use to watch the fights from the curb as two combatants fought in the middle of the street. It was a beautiful time-less shooting then and young men placed more emphasis on how well they could fight than shoot. Philly is the capital of boxing in this country, Hollywood bares witness to this fact hence it is where their mythological grafted champion Rocky Balboa comes from. We didn’t build about boxing last night per se, we built about how the neighborhood oriented us toward confronting life’s demons. We talked about ‘heart’, if you got punked in my neighborhood back in the day we would say, “He took your heart!”(Courage)-ultimately it was your responsibility to go fight that man and get your heart back. Even if you couldn’t beat an exceptionally nice nigga who was sweet with his hands you had to give it your best: Win or Loose! It was a very organic process, usually after you lost a fight you would go in the house for a couple of days and search deep within and find the courage to come back outside prepared for a rematch. My Enlightener’s nemesis was a dude named Will, they were both approximately 11 years older than me and they appeared as giants in my eyes when they fought-My Enlightener fought Will many times. My Nemesis was ‘P-Whack’, Goddamn that nigga could fight-he was my ‘fear’-I had to fight this movafucka before school and after school like a religious ritual-I don’t think it’s a day that goes by that I don’t think about that nigga. Last night we built about how those type of showdowns created courage deep inside of us. We fought to maintain ‘Heart’. I was the only son from my mother and many of the other boys on the block had multiple brothers and at one time or another I fought everybody. That place in North Philly taught me how to smile when fighting, how to laugh if someone landed a good blow to my face- (even if it hurt) it taught me passion, and to be free of fear. In a fight all you can do is give it the best you got-In life all you can do is give it the best you got and never let anyone take your heart. We can teach all kinds of lessons; Supreme Math; Supreme Alphabet, 120, and Quran but no Enlightener or Educator can teach courage. Da Brothers that came up in that neighborhood were taught to confront one another Man to Man if they had a problem with one another and in life it is important that we tackle problems regardless to whom or what. Unfortunately not everyone was raised in my neighborhood, and many have never dealt with the military training that comes with a ‘Fareone’, so they suffer, unable to confront deep layers of fear in their third. Passive aggressive type individuals are people who have never found the high explosives of their own courage, and instead of causing Earthquakes they are the ‘Shook Ones’. No Enlightener or Educator in this math can teach a man or woman courage. Courage is a personal journey. All Queens should really make sure that the God you wake up with is not a ‘Bitch Ass Nigga’? Will he stand in your defense? Is he prepared to die for the sake of you and the babies? Does he have anxiety as it pertains to confrontation or conflict? GOD IS NOT A BITCH! All praises due to ‘P Whack’-my hands are what they are because of that Man!

Monday, December 1, 2008

The Owner!
Today I paid my truck off! October 6, 2006 I drove it off the lot and December 1, 2008 I made the final payment. I hate debt, the shit feel like a sword over your head. Debt is indeed a bitch. I love B.I.G.'s line in Hypnotize "Condo paid for, no car payment.." Movafuckin bankz is foreclosing on Americans harder than Pimps slap hoes, the economy is fucked up and it was the banks primarily that caused this recession. Job loss, layoff and unemployment is high than a movafucka! Yeah I looked around the lot and saw some tight shit, they wanted to send me home with a new Tahoe today, but I ain't want to be no Hoe! I hate oweing movafuckuz cash. This country's is based on movafuckuz buying cars and homes and staying in debt to the blood suckers of the poor. First mortgages and then movafuckuz get so caught up they have to refinance. My next car I plan to own from jump, shit-I dream of buying my crib cash. Banks won't hesitate to foreclose on your ass, part of every Sheriff's job is to throw movafuckuz out they home. Yeah it is a fucked up economy indeed. Interestingly enough Muslims don't deal with 'interest' and interest is what this economy is based on. The Quran speakes against interest, and calls it Haram(Unlawful). Muslims also believe that interest causes Prostitution and that 'interest' is a Homosexual practice. I heard this one Islamic scholar state that 'interest' is a form of sodomy! And we have all heard that the American Consumer takes it up the ass. Our lessons state that 'The Devil taught him to eat the wrong food!' Is it no wonder that Thanksgiving advocates the consumption of many wrong foods and the next day is called 'Black Friday' which kicks off the season of mass consumption? I will be the first to admit that I am a sucker for a hot whip, but what keeps me in check is the degree that states, "He loves the devil because the devil gives him nothing" I am understanding my lessons slowly like everyone else with 120, and doing the knowledge on becoming more wise with my currency. That new Hybrid Tahoe is sick, it got Tahoe written across the side and the whole nine, but also like B.I.G. said in 'Ten Crack Commandments', "Niggaz want they money come rain, hail, snow!" Preach B.I.G. Preach! Yeah I'm gonna get some new shit, but the time will have to absolutely be right, and I really don't want to be into the ten percent for no whole lot of cheese! Feel me!