Thursday, 20 January 2011
Can one have a selection of burners and Not at some point clap-a-zaggin?
I’m optimistic about this one so intend to circumnavigate a very serious issue with a slight dash of street-licensed comedy.
The power an ill-omen such as the gun is quite unmistakable; the power of the cannon since its invention is obvious to observers of historical war stratagem. And now we have - for the palm, not for food - the mini-cannon on the street via grey markets. So today it seems, and even before the recent culture reflection which is hip hop, so-called “burners” - to those of us engaged in profit-minded service - are synonymous with power.
I’ll unfold my perspective further.
I estimate, possibly incorrectly, that, if you’re concerned with power outside the office then the gun is essential. I isolate the office in particular because of my claim that corporate criminality is so clean; not even the regulatory bodies can see it, so here, I’ll go out on a limb and insult your intelligence by suggesting that not even you – everyone’s favorite unemployable black male – cannot see it either - anyone else assumed to not be hood-intelligentsia reading this, well then the same applies to you too.
Oh, of course, moi? I claim to be more than merely a road zaggin; I claim to know my stuff and… to quote Killah Preist…“C further than the zagginz on my block!” so when I talk about gunz, it aint just reactionary, or flippant, nah, the view is long-held, and has been tweaked and refined even though it still appears crude and for that reason, this topic can usually be avoided for being as such.
My power-hungry impulse crave gunz, therefore I’m in a constant battle – until evacuation to favorable conditions – against going down that road again of bagging up those 0.2’s and applying my new found disciplines – detectable no one – up the demonic steps to money and murder.
I’ve been resisting for years, seeing zagginz all in the scramble (plus my own intoxication off hip hop which seemingly is the cocoon I’m trying to burst from).
I have acquired info on matters of dirt, muscle, jailtime, and solidification, outside so-called “office rules”.
The only thing stopping me is, although Krishna advised a reluctant Ajurna to fight on the battlefield, I’m unsure if Lord Vishnu – who descended just to play his part – would advise a reluctant Defisis to slang rocks and murk my way to the levers of power? - Even if I do catch bird after bird, accumulating karmic tolls and a type of dirt that’d last multiple lifeforms?
Some days I wish I had a spiritual advisor. I’d ask him if this hip hop streetcorner rapsh-t really is my caste/order/duty (due to repeated experience it feels like it?) I’d ask submissively if this hood shit which I’m forever trying to shake is my battlefield and if I should pick up my weapon and fight, I wonder if the answer would be an emphatic NO!
As I said at the top of this blog I don’t mean to make the reader feel uneasy with this one, for this could be among some of (to quote 2pac/Mobb Deep)… “the realest sh-t I’ve ever wrote”
My ratio against these desires are effected by prescribes duties, but granted, it’s fair to say I’m seriously undecided on this until I find favorable conditions, but while I’m here, even after hathatanga sessions, I feel like I could be that hammer bearer to clap a zaggin and still go to heavenly planets?
The Complete Whole knows my heart. What animates it is Self and that self is by nature good. I have received descended wisdom to know precisely why I’m engaged in demonic activity – (of which clapping a burly skinhead criminal who deserves a good clapping is down there with the worst of them).
My trigger finger itches but luckily for me my intuition reins king and according to that I must endeavor to follow the teachings of the trailblazers; a trail which leads like a sequence of chakras from Krishna, through disiplic succession, to Prabupada. Prapupada’s weighty commentary (can’t remember which one) – states that one should never risk his life for money, life is for attaining consciousness of the cause, the complete whole, the source where all forms emanate be they moving or non moving, organic or in organic, within and without?
My symptoms of self-appraisal produces many highbrow research docs and data streams published here for viewing on this blog, and I now hope you know why I named it the last real zaggin lectures, coz I have been bloody lectured to, only delivered with this language to sway a dumbzaggin sense of reason – (but I am fool no1 for even trying when I’m unqualified) – attempting bring it to my own level of understanding which I arrogantly, defiantly declare, is higher than anybody’s I’m ever to meet, unless I shake the street, which keeps calling, and swivel the bullet with my name on it, which is probably still spinning through some Hockley or zone1 alleyway.
So can one have a selection of hammers and not pop a shell in a neighborhood bully? Well…erm…I think so.
Hare Krishna (no, I’m not a devotee – just read it so we can discuss it).