Live By The Sword: Learning To Shut Da Fuck Up!

After Praise's comment Abdur Rahman had a very unpleasant look on his face, it was obvious that Praise's conversion to 'true Islam' was going to be more difficult than Abdur Rahman had initially anticipated. Sayeed looked at Abdur Rahman with an 'I told you so' look on his face. Praise read the eyes and body language of all the muslim extremist in the room and intuitively figured out that this was neither the time nor the place to be building like some debate driven God standing in front of Allah School arguing over if 'refinement' is a part of the math or not.

Praise needed to refine his approach to deal with these Al-Qaeda niggaz. He knew the blackman was God and to attempt to convince Islamic fundamentalist of such a fact would be counter productive to him being released. When Praise read the body language of the four muslims guarding him and peeped the other two he noticed Abdur Rahman's look of disenchantment, and the look of irritation that Sayeed gave Abdur Rahman. Praise at that moment decided to immediately travel on the path of the least resistance, a decision that came a bit late. His comments had already lit someone's fuse in the room. After his diatribe on how the 5 pillars of Islam correlates to the lessons and philosophies of 'I God' culture the body language of the muslims in the room quickly began to sour. The dead silence in the room said, "Let's cut this kafir's head off!"

Praise understood that religion was a drug and that these guys were snorting raw un-cut Islam with no twists or tweaks and also that this brand of Islam was what nightly newscasters truly meant as 'Islamic fundamentalist'.

Upon reading the cold current of air in the room, he attempted to quickly adapt, deciding to down-play his intelligence and completely dumb-down his intellectual prowess for tactical reasons. His 'understanding' had to come across as a lack of 'understanding'.

Wisely, he made the decision to open his ears and listen intently, and 'game' the muslims by appearing genuinely eager to learn about raw un-cut Islam. The goal of his strategy was to ultimately appeal to Sayeed and Abdur Rahman, listen to them and make them feel as if they were the wisest men in the world. Praise now understood that his earlier verbal discourse regarding the five pillars of Islam was ill-timed, out of place and that freely voicing his supreme mathematical cee at that time was indeed a blunder. In Grand Master level chess one blunder can mean checkmate-fortunately his single blunder wasn't enough to get himself checkmated, but it was enough to get da God checked-checked hard.

"I know Prophet Muhammad lived in Arabia but who was Prophet Muhammad for real-for real?" Praise asked in an attempt to clean shit up-knowing that he had offended the muslims. Consciously removing the intellectual arrogance out of his tone of voice, he squinted his eyes and contorted his face to form an expression that read, 'I'm dumb, black and ignorant. Please help me!' It was obvious to the muslims that Praise was running 'game'. Ordinarily his question about Muhammad would have put the muslims in the room at ease, but since his question about Muhammd came on the heals of his comments that cheapened the five pillars of Islam it made the muslims in the room suspicious. What Praise was doing was exactly what Sayeed had initially suspected: Praise would say anything to protect his neck and now the other muslims could see Sayeed's point. Praise was transparent and his acting poor. The muslims saw right through him and even though they saw through his agenda when the name 'Muhammad' came off of Praise's lips all six muslims in the room said, "Salalahu alayhi wa Salam!" simultaneously.

"What is 'Salalahu a lay-a lay'... how yall say it?" Praise uttered clumsily. Though the back room he was held hostage in was kinda hot with radiators hissing the eyes of all the men in the room were cold and their silence was frosty. The humor from the misunderstanding of 'Jordan' the basketball player and 'Jordan' the country was long gone.

"'Salalahu alayhi wa salam'-means 'May the peace and blessings of Allah be upon Muhammad'." Saleek answered, taking Praise's question as mockery.

"So who was he?" Praise asked. He thought asking questions about Muhammad would bare more fruit than if he continued to speak. A God named Knowledge once told him "Gods love to hear themselves build-so let them movafuckuz build while you do the knowledge!" So Praise took the best part of Da God Knowledge's understanding for himself and finally at that moment he shut da fuck up and quietly declared he would ear hustle from then forward before them Al Qaeda niggaz decided to cut his fuckin head off.

"Brother Sayeed may I speak to him about our beloved Prophet."
Saleek asked humbly. Saleek had been quiet during the whole ordeal. He was the largest of all six muslims, big for an arab but not bigger than Praise. His physique reminded one of an English Bulldog, his eyes were quiet and soft, not that he was soft, but his eyes had the sleepiness of a thousand and one Arabian nights about them. He took his time and circled Praise slowly as Praise sat on the floor nearly in panic-mode. Saleek was a deeply devoted muslim, born poor in Saudi Arabia he was raised in Yemen and now found himself living in America on a student visa like the others in the small Al-Qaeda sleeper cell. He was the first amongst the men to volunteer to blow himself up at either the Guggenheim or Wal-mart, preferably Wal-mart because he had visions of walking around in the electronic section of Wal-Mart and all of a sudden yelling at the top of his lungs "La ila ha ila La-Muhammad dur rasululah" and press the button to kill as many Americans shopping for big screens as possible. At 26 years of age he was anxious to give his life in the way of Allah. Not an intellectual scholar of Islam like Sayeed, instead Saleek distinguished himself by his passion for the stories of the sahaba's(Companions of the Prophet) devotion to the Rasul(Messenger/Muhammad). For as long as he could remember he possessed a deep desire to die in the name of Allah. The life of the dunya(sinful world) did not mean anything to him and his life and his death was solely for the pleasure of Allah Subhannu Watallah.

"The Prophet Muhammad Salalahu a layhi wa Salam was the best of all creation. He is the seal of all the Prophets. No other Prophet shall come after him. The Angel Jibril came to him and said, "Iqra! Iqra! Iqra!" Meaning 'Read', and recite and from that moment forward the angel Jibril began to reveal to him the Holy Quran." Saleek's voice contained anger and his anger became more pronounced as he continued. His accent was noticeably sharper as he became more and more blinded by rage.

"So that kafir shit you talk about a new Quran every 25 hundred years or 25 thousand years of history or whatever it is-is a Shaitanic lie and if you ever utter-" he dramatically paused, and bit his lip because his fury choked him up so much that, a tear drop fell from his right eye, swiftly catching a ride down his right cheek. It was obvious that Saleek's elevator didn't go all the way to the top floor. Saleek was a fanatic. He put down the machine gun he was holding and took out a 9 millimeter Beretta from his jacket and wildly swung the pistol, striking the lips of Praise-Praise quickly went from sitting on the floor to laying on the floor. Saleek stood over Praise, striking Praise repeatedly. Praise's mouth was filled with blood, after hitting da God approximately ten times with the god u now Praise was sprawled out on the floor barely conscious.

"If I hear those dumb ass lessons come out of your face again while Sayeed or any other muslim is talking I won't hesitate to shoot your black ass in each limb, then cut off both arms, both legs and I will see to it that you stay alive for hours before I cut your head off. You'll be begging me to cut off your head. I will truly show you the meaning of Arm, Leg, Leg, Arm, Head my friend. I'll cut your Kafir head off, put it on a prayer rug facing east and make you make salat the hard way. Try me! Keep playing with Islam like it's a joke." Saleek whispered in a cold voice of a killer, desperately wanting to make all of his threats 'word is bond'.

His ferocious temperament made the room quiet, it was obvious to Abdur Rahman that Saleek had a cannibal like hunger to behead Praise. Saleek had actually taken part in a few beheadings of kafirs in Yemen, and was now home-sick and desperately wanted to perform a beheading on U.S. soil. He hated the fact that Abdur Rahman spared Praise.

DaGod finally got it, he now understood the depth of their zealotry for Islam, their love for Muhammad and the love they held for their Mystery God. Praise had a headache but he finally got it: and needed to respect these movafuckuz even though they were hardcore mystery God worshipers.

Saleek was scheduled to blow himself up next week wearing a bomb vest made of syntex explosives. Life meant nothing to him and his death would be for the pleasure of Allah subhannu watallah. At that moment Praise understood that a man who wants to live is no match for a man who can't wait to die.

Praise's mentally grabbed at the phrase in the culture cipher degree in the one to forties: "I will give all I have and all within my power to see the day..." That one phrase in knowledge wisdom cipher got Da God through.

To be continued...

Live By The Sword: Power Pillars

The rope was tied so tight Praise felt as though he was holding a handful of pins and needles. He could barely feel his feet because of how tightly his ankles were bound. Sayeed and Abdur Rahman returned to the back room-this time Abdur Rahman was holding a knife. A moment of brief terror had struck Praise, making his heart skip a beat and sink with fear. However, the knife Abdur Rahman held was a knife of freedom, not a knife intended for Praise's slaughter.

"Today, you will live Mr. Praise." The history of the Middle East was distinct in his accent and the delivery of his words. Abdur Rahman cut the ropes that bound both his hands and feet. Sayeed pulled his 9 millimeter Taurus from his waist, and the other captors followed suit, each pulling their personal weapon of choice. Praise's hands and feet were no longer in bondage but he was still not free. Praise looked at the bright side: it was a start. Sayeed threw him a pair of clean muslim clothes, a wash cloth, a towel and a bag in which to put his soiled clothes. Half of the room was partitioned off with cheap paneling, making it half meat storage area-half living quarters.

"Soap is in the shower."

Praise stood to his feet slowly, squeezed his hands to get the blood circulating again and proceeded to limp to the bathroom on feet that felt like they had walked a mile on needles. The hoods of his captors were off, and now he could see their faces and eyes. None were older than him and all were physically smaller. He felt that he could beat the shit out of one or two of 'em if an escape opportunity presented itself but he knew he could not win against the guns they were holding. Saleek held a small semi automatic machine gun with a silencer screwed onto the barrel; outside of the movies or a TV show it was the only time Praise had ever saw a silencer. The only person who didn't carry a weapon was Abdur Rahman. The guns trained on Praise felt more dangerous than the sword that was held above his head just a few minutes prior. Maybe because death from a gun is immediate, more clinical and less passionate than decapitation from Islamic extremists. Praise felt that passion keeps fear company and death from a bullet seemed lonely and somehow more cold-not that he desired to have his head cut off or to be shot.

Both the shower and the bathroom were disgusting, but not more disgusting than how Praise felt. He was relieved to take off his shitty boxers and jeans and get under the old, rusty shower head that spewed weak water pressure. 'At least it's hot.', he thought. He was still alive so the weak water pressure and the disgusting tub were welcomed with open arms. The fact that he was still alive was all that mattered to Praise: being alive always presented the possibility of a chance.

"Why did they give him a chance to clean himself up?" he asked himself, mumbling under the cascading water. While standing under the shower with weak water pressure he searched for the answers to 'unknowns' (x)s and 'why's (y)s. He used 120 to surmise that for one reason or another they wanted him to come amongst them. For Praise 120 worked both on a conscious level and an unconscious level in terms that they both manifested and described the nature of the human dynamic. His thoughts at that moment came out of the born degree in the knowledge to knowledge the culture: 'they weren't going to kill him as quick as they would other Americans-'so what did they want?', Praise thought to himself.

Mumbling to himself under the shower with his eyes closed he began a strategic conversation with his own self; a dialogue of sorts. Praise was having a 'by myself meeting' to discuss what he should do and say to his captors.

"Run it through the math God. What do these Al-Qaeda movafuckuz want? They gave you a chance to wash yo ass and they didn't kill you as quick-". He abruptly stopped mumbling out loud because the answer to his question hit him in mid-sentence and then he started thinking loud-his thoughts were very clear: 'they want to do trading'. 'Trade' what? I want freedom from these Al-Qaeda movafuckuz but what do they want from me? For all practical purposes they could have easily cut my head off, but these camel jockeys, desert niggaz let me live. Why? I made them laugh with the Jordan joke and called their leader a white devil Arab. Hmmm!'

Greatest Praise's thought process was clicking on all cylinders. DaGod was in survival mode and hadn't at that point drawn up the full extent of their intentions, so he decided to do the knowledge harder than he'd ever had. Greatest Praise Allah concluded that this was a chess game of enormous proportions. It was a game where checkmate meant life or death.

A knock came to the thin door. "Hurry up!" Hamza yelled.

The knock at the cheap wooden door snapped Praise out of his internal mathematical meditation. He turned off the shower, stepped out, dried off and put on some small ass traditional muslim clothes that seemed more like pajamas for a child than clothing for an adult. Being a six foot, three inch, two hundred and fifty pound black man and wearing clothes that were made for an Arab who was five feet three inches made him feel stupid: 'better to feel stupid than to feel dead', he thought. His pants were high-waters, higher than Steve Urkel's. The moment he walked out of the bathroom wearing tight ass, light blue muslim pajamas and a small ass kuffi that didn't fit his head he felt stupid and once again the Al Qaeda niggaz had managed to make him a source of their amusement and laughed at his tight clothes.

"Yall don't have an extra-large?" Praise asked like someone coming out of a fitting room, after trying on clothes at a department store.

"Sit!" Sayeed asked in a gentle and calm voice.

Sayeed sat down across from Greatest Praise and began to speak. "Have you ever read the Holy Quran."

"Bits and pieces; here and there but I've never really did the knowledge on the whole thing. So to be honest with you: now cipher. No I haven't."

"Prophet Muhammad Salalahu alayhi wa salam was commanded by Allah Subhannu Watallah by way of the Angel Jibril to 'read', 'recite' and 'proclaim' to the world the message of Islam in the Holy Quran."

"I'm feeling what you're saying indeed. We gave the Quran to the Arab to clean himself up." Praise stated.

"Who is 'we'?" Sayeed asked

"The Holy Quran or Bible is made by the Original Man who is Allah; the supreme being; the blackman from Asia. The Quran will expire in the year 25,000: 9980 years from the date of this writing. The Nation of Islam is all wise and does everything right and exact. The Planet Earth which is the Home of Islam is approximately 25,000 miles in circumference, so the wise man from the East; blackman makes his history or Quran to equal his home circumference: a year to every mile. Thus everytime his history last 25,000 years-he renews it for another 25,000 years."

"Brother what kind of gibberish, nonsense are you talking about?" Sayeed asked with a stupified look written on his face.

" Everybody has a personal Quran. Every day is an ayat, every month you live a surah and eventually your whole life becomes your own personal history and personal Quran. The human family as a whole lives a collective Quran. The Quran is history that equals are home circumference of the Original Man and is the cipher in which He dwells."

"No brother. No-no-no! That is not Islam. The word 'Quran' means recitation. The Prophet Muhammad Salalahu alayhi wa salam brought one Quran for the whole of mankind. It is the last revelation to mankind from Allah Subhannu watallah. "

"Peace, I'm feeling all that and whatnot, but I don't deal with a mysterious God. I believe the Quran is a mathematical revelation. God is not a mystery, but instead God is inextricably bound to my consciousness. What I'm saying is that I'm one with Allah and Allah is one with me: Making me Allah 'world manifest'. Like DaGod Jesus said, "when you see me-you see the Father" and he also said "That I and my 'Father' are One." and that's the reality of Islam or I Self Lord and Master that I deal wit fam."

"Brother you have been taught wrong. None of what you say is real Islam. What you speak is 'bida'(haram innovation) teaching from the Shaitan. Your knowledge of Islam is haram(forbidden). The gravest sin in Islam is to associate gods and partners with Allah subhannu Watallah. You are not God. Clarence 13X Smith is not Allah! Islam is not 'I' 'Self' 'Lord' and 'Master' as you say. Islam means submission. To submit your will to the will of Allah Subhannu Watallah is the nature of real Islam. True Islam has five pillars; Shahada-which is to bare witness that there is no God but Allah and that Muhammad is his last messenger; secondly: salat or prayer. Salat is to a muslim what the head is to the body. Thirdly: prescribed fasting during the month of Ramadan. Fourth: is zakat or charity which means to spend out of what Allah has provided for you. The last principle is Hajj which is the pilgrimage to the Holy City of Mecca." Sayeed spoke softly to Praise. He smiled, as if he was placing a blanket over a child.

"I feel all of those principles or Pillars as you call them and each one of em can be found in knowledge wisdom cipher-it's what da Gods and Earths deal with: "I bare witness to the Father Allah in that he came to teach in the bowels of the black Ghettos of the Wilderness of North America and he indeed taught us the righteous way. I also bare witness to The Honorable Elijah Muhammad and Master Fard Muhammd as well as the first Muhammad who lived in Arabia-he is indeed one of my righteous brothers who was a Prophet also. When I do my duty as a civilized person to teach the uncivilized civilization that's my charity. I just gave a God one to fourteens today-that'z charity. Everytime I build that's prayer. I fast from time to time when I want to detox from the wrong foods that ain't right and exact. And when I murder the four devils of jealousy, envy, lust and hatred inside of me I get free transpo and make my Hajj to my internal Mecca within which is my point of origin in this world. Feel me son?!"

To Be Continued...

Live By The Sword: Next Wednesday At Wal-mart

After realizing Praise didn't immediately discern the difference between Michael Jordan and the country of 'Jordan', Abdur Rahman became concerned-concerned that slaughtering Praise may be wrong. Abdur Rahman was inclined to believe that Greatest Praise had never been properly introduced to raw authentic Islam and felt that the ways of the Dunya (worldly sins) in America has thoroughly diluted, mixed and tampered with the proper process of how people should receive true Islam. Abdur Rahman pondered that Praise and possibly many other Five Percenters lacked true Islamic knowledge as the result of being born poor and black in America. He had read books, watched documentaries regarding the historical suffering of Negros and the deplorable conditions of African Americans throughout American history and was shocked to learn that Black people were once slaves in America. He once did a 35 page extra-credit research paper on the diaspora and turned it in at the last minute so he wouldn't fail a Black History course offered as a college elective. He'd only taken the course because 'Chemical Engineering 301' was full for the fall semester.

And even with all of his vast Islamic intelligence and one black history class under his belt, he himself still didn't understand the reality of Allah's love nor did he understand black people-he incorrectly held on to the false notion that Martin Luther King Jr. freed the slaves. The 25 year old, hip hop loving, extremist muslim from Jordan was for all practical purposes disinterested in black people and the history of black people. At sometime during his initial orientation into the American experience he had clumsily confused his love for hip hop as an expertise on African American culture. He was short sighted in regard to his perceptions of minorities in America, they were faceless and overshadowed by his own intense hatred and obsession with destroying the enemies of Islam: his hate blinded him. All he saw was the depravity of U.S. driven 'anti-Islam' foreign policy in the Middle East by the Shaitanic American puppet Government sodomized daily by Jew debt. Essentially, in the international political scheme of things so-called minorities were of no real consequence to him:just black; brown; and yellow Americanized pawns on a geo-political chess board. Greatest Praise was 'nobody' to Abdur Rahman-just a blackman who was a part of a misled, rag-tag social organization who's definition of 'Islam' was as simple as a High School Cheerleader's idea for a clever cheer acronymically spelling team names or motivational words: 'I Self Lord And Master'. He pitied Da God Greatest Praise but Praise didn't need Abdur Rahman's pity because Praise felt he had all he needed: Supreme Mathematics.

The laughter from the Jordan joke had ceased and wisely Praise was quiet, hopeful that the laughter of the men had some how got him off the hook. He was reading Abdur Rahman's body language, watching as he pensively paced back and forth, hands behind his back, lost deep in thought. Praise could sense that the vibe of murder had left the room: at least temporarily.

When Greatest Praise called Abdur Rahman 'white' he subconsciously put him on the defensive. Not only did Abdur Rahman become defensive but Praise's words struck a nerve because Abdur Rahman knew that 'oppression' was shaitanic devilishment, plain and simple. Such a point appealed to the cerebral nature of Abdur Rahman. Abdur Rahman realized that Greatest Praise was a black man who had been oppressed in America and he couldn't in good conscience murder Greatest Praise in Praise's state of ignorance-it wasn't the 'muslim thing' to do. Perhaps if the person kneeling before him was a C.I.A. operative, a U.S. soldier, a Wall Street banker or a Jew lawyer he could take their heads without blinking, but here was this poor man on his knees with shit in his pants claiming to be Allah. Abdur Rahman concluded that Praise was majnun(crazy). He felt that it was the duty of each muslim on Earth including himself and those in the back of his Halal butcher shop to invite Greatest Praise to true Islam by giving him Da'wah(An invitation to worship Allah).

"Sayeed, come here!" Sayeed was one of the men that stood behind Greatest Praise. Abdur Rahman and Sayeed stepped out from the back storage area into the front of the store for privacy. The metal security door that covered the front of the outside of the store was pulled down, so no passersbies could come in, or peer into the window of the Atlantic Avenue storefront Halal Butcher shop.

Abdur Rahman was the Amir of their particular Al Qaeda cell however Sayeed was the most gifted Islamic scholar of the cell: he knew the entire Quran by heart and had a great deal of Hadiths committed to memory.

With a serious look of concern on his face Abdur Rahman created an uncomfortable silence as Sayeed waited for him to speak. "I think we need to give him da'wah. This man is obviously ignorant or majnun. Would Prophet Muhammad Salalahu alayhi Wa salam murder a fool?" Abdur Rahman asked.

"Why do you think he's a fool? He's intelligent enough to have started his own moving business; intelligent enough to have engaged you in an odd but nevertheless intelligent argument as it pertains to Allah Subhannu Watallah. I personally think we should cut his intelligent head off. The more heads we take the more that it counts as a barakah (blessing) and the angel of our good deeds notes such an act of jihad as a good deed."

"Wouldn't it also be a good deed if we gave him da'wah?"

"AllahulAlam(Only Allah knows). Brother I say we get it over with: kill 'em. Me and Daud spent three hours in South Jersey digging a hole for his body. Please tell me that we didn't dig the hole for nothing."

"You didn't dig in vane Sayeed. The headless body of a kafir is going into that hole-I just don't know if he should be the one."

"What about your Father? Your father wants his head?"

"My father is not Allah. If we kill this man and the day of Yawmal kiyama(Day of Judgement) comes and Allah rules that he was not a kafir this could affect our position in jennat(Paradise/heaven). Let him shower, give him a change of clothes and teach him true Islam. If he doesn't take shahada(To officially become a muslim) within 48 hours-cut his head off!"

"This is not smart. He is a man desperate to save his life; he'll do or say anything to save his neck and tell us what we want to hear. If he does accept Islam-are we suppose to let him just walk out of here?"

"We're not going to let him go! I've been thinking. We need someone to wear a bomb vest in Wal-Mart next Wednesday. If he accepts Islam we give him the honor of dying Mujahidin as a suicide bomber in Wal-Mart and if he doesn't accept Islam we'll cut his head off."

To Be Continued...