Another Wake Up Call About “Thanksgiving” Brought To You From The Archives When Obama’s Lame Ass Was Still President

 

What I Am Thankful For On this Day, Thanksgiving Day!

 

 

I really had no thought of writing anything on Thanksgiving Day because several of my dear blogger friends took the time to post some wonderful Thanksgiving Day blog posts. And I have already re-blogged them to my heart’s content. But I just want to take this opportunity, and this is off the top of my head, to let them know how appreciative I am to know that there are some people who truly think for themselves. It does my heart good to know that there are some who will not simply conform to the dictates of a fucked up society, but who will indulge themselves in a bit of critical thinking. Try it sometime! It does my heart good to know that there are others like me who refuse to ‘like’ all up and down on some lies that are told to us about Thanksgiving Day and because we are too damn lazy, we refuse to do our own research and dig for the truth even if we have to dig underneath a pile of outrageous lies to find it.

We had a Black-assed president, who to this very day, is hell bent on preaching the vile ass lies about how some pilgrims came to this continent and loved all up and down on the Indians and he even compared the ‘pilgrims’ to the Syrian refugees. This vicious, chronic, habitual liar had the goddamn nerve to call a band of genocidal, homicidal maniacs, “refugees!” My tongue would have twisted so goddamn bad trying to get that lie out, that it would have eventually twisted itself loose and escaped from my lying ass mouth! We are still sitting somewhere swallowing the lies of warmongers and war hawks who are just as bad as the depraved and vile shits that fucked up the Indians and then commenced to hunting down innocent people in Africa and dragged them here to become slaves. These so-called ‘pilgrims’, who were actually colonizers, were not the salt of the earth; they should have been banned from the earth, as barbaric and brutal as they were and their progeny are still at it to this very day.

Kill! Kill! Kill! How can that ever be defined as benevolent, caring, compassionate, concerned and humanitarian? How can breeding and then killing millions of birds for Thanksgiving Day dinner tables ever be considered, humanitarian? How can consuming that which had a beating heart ever be considered, humanitarian? But that right there tells me something. It tells me that we so-called ‘humans’ have never been synonymous with ‘humanitarian’ for how could we be? We send our own offspring to die in wars started by depraved rejects from hell and we don’t have a problem with that. We know that the ‘animals’ that we consume on a daily basis have stood in piles of filth, stood in their own shit inside a hell and then were butchered as though they were never living tissue with eyes, brains, legs, a stomach; the same organs that we possess. Is it any wonder that the ‘human’ race is destroying itself? No, it is not! Because when we can destroy that which has never done us any harm simply because we want a steak; when we can destroy that which would leap gracefully away from us in fright and terror, we are not ‘human’. We shoot deer for sport. We consider this to be ‘hunting’. What a brave soul we are to ‘hunt’ down something that cannot defend itself against cowardly bastards with hunting rifles. You are not some great game hunter and yet you strut around with your trophies as though you have done something to be proud of. You’re nothing but a coward! You’re not fit to stand there looking all prideful beside the body of a dead lion or a dead deer or whatever else you think it your right to hunt down and kill because you are a depraved piece of filth! A cockroach stands heads and shoulders above your worthless ass!

Now, I am speaking to the hypocritical motherfuckers that went on and on about that big game hunter that went out and shot and killed Cecil, the lion. Why are YOU sitting down to a turkey dinner? Your hypocrisy petticoat is showing. I certainly did call it right when I called you all ‘hypocrites in my post, Trophy World because, indeed, that is what you are. How are you any different from the piece of dead shit that killed your beloved Cecil, the lion? Oh, that’s right! You did not actually kill that big, stuffed dead bird that you just carved into. So that makes it alright, doesn’t it. No, it does not! You were complicit in that bird’s death just as if you had killed it yourself because you were silent as the grave you are headed for because you stood by when you knew that millions of turkeys would lose their lives just so that you could display your hypocrisy and fake ass devotion to family and tradition. The next time a motherfucker kills Cecil, the lion’s brother’s brother, shut the fuck up! And don’t put that goddamn shit up for me to read because I fucking don’t appreciate reading about hypocrisy, ignorance and fake ass outrage! Save it! Because you have no cause to feel justified in your fake ass outrage over Cecil, the lion’s death while you sit there and unzip your pants because of your expanding stomach thanks to gorging yourself on a dead turkey! And then head to the doctor so that he can give you another pill because of all your weight-related health issues and then cry me a river!

And this brings me to something else. Our instinct for killing is not just for the so-called ‘animals’. We turn against other so-called ‘humans’ and we hunt and kill them for sport. We self-righteously tell ourselves that because this person’s skin tone is darker than ours, he or she does not deserve to live. They are not ‘human’. They will become just another trophy; another notch on this gun. Oh, this killing thing is sweet. It is so sweet that we can still sit up in church on a Sunday morning and bow our heads and pray about how good, benevolent and kind we are because we just put $100 into the collection plate and we wrote a $50 check out to Goodwill. See? We’re so good and thoughtful. Let us pat ourselves on our goddamn saintly ass back. That’s ‘humanitarian’. Again! No, it is not. That is hypocrisy. You’re a goddamn hypocrite and you are deceiving yourself into believing that you are good and decent when you are just flat out, dead filth. You don’t have a heart and you sure as hell don’t have that soul that your preacher or reverend is going on and on about. You are not going to some heavenly reward for being a humanitarian do-gooder. You are going to get planted and that’s it. Kid yourself all you want, but this is it. Do you honestly think that there is going to be some ‘god’ that is going to grant you the right to murder with impunity in some paradise beyond the stars? Do you honestly think that your filthy ass is going to enjoy the riches in some heavenly mansion? Yeah! Bow your stupid head and continue to pretend that you are the next best thing to a saint. You are nothing but a lying, hypocritical piece of nothing. I don’t care what your net worth is; you are worthless. I don’t care how much perfume you spray on or how much cologne you use, it will never conceal the stench of death because that is what you are; dead. And your ass is not in purgatory; that would be too good for the likes of you. This is it. You’re either a decent ‘human’ because you have got a heart or you are ‘dead’ and most of you are dead and you are the very ones who are posting “Happy Thanksgiving” posts back and forth to each other. You are the very ones that are gathering with the other thankful ‘dead’ pretending and postulating for the benefit of who? Because you have already proven that you are dead. Why else would you just go with the flow? You know what this day called, “Thanksgiving” is all about, but because you have no heart, you go on pretending that it is all about displaying fake ass love with family members you secretly hate and wish were dead so that you can swoop in and scoop up whatever trinkets and baubles and insurance benefits they may have left behind.

So yes, I am thankful because I am not sitting down at a table with a big stuffed dead bird on it; complete with all the trimmings. I am thankful because I am not gorging myself on the remains of a carcass of what used to be a living, breathing, beautiful bird. I am thankful that I am not sitting around the table with people that I detest and loathe all the while pretending that I am pleased to be with them. I am thankful that I am not a hypocrite; who after having prayed for 30 seconds, gorged myself on a dead bird, then immediately headed out the door to get a head start on my capitalism fix. I am thankful that I think for myself and have never felt the need to conform to the dictates of a fucked up society filled with the walking dead(and no, it’s not just a TV show). I am thankful that I can say that I am indeed, human and alive!

And no, I do not wish you a “Happy Thanksgiving” because I know what this day stands for and I have never stood for genocide, theft, lies, slavery, torture, rape, hunting, hypocrisy, corruption, brutality, barbarity, murder and war and I certainly don’t stand for ignorance. And if you are celebrating this day, you are too ignorant for words! And if you have a problem with this, bite me!

A Letter To My Mother On Her 77th Birthday! Happy Birthday Mother

 

Happy Birthday Mother!

Yes, you brought me into this world;
a squalling little Black baby girl.
You belittled everything I ever did
and you beat me for nothing when I was a kid.

You want me to honor, love and respect you
when what I did was from you, take my cue.
I have never known what love is and I never will.
Not one tear for love will my eyes ever spill.

I’ve been called cold, callous and cruel,
but never have I been called, “love’s favorite fool.”
I know that this should be all about your day,
and it is in its own strange and morbid way.

There is just something that needs saying
because in this town where you live, I’m not staying.
I have come running every time you’ve ever called
and listened to each admonishment on my character, you’ve drawled.

That stops here and now because I don’t need you anymore.
I never really did but I’ve just got to settle the score.
When you talked about me to your acquaintances, that hurt.
But knowing what you are mother, I’m an expert.

I’ve watched you down through the years
send people packing with words sharper than shears.
I’ve listened to you drone on about how great you are
when you are too evil and wicked for hell by far.

You’ve got foul names for everyone you ever meet.
The language you use, the derogatory names, you bleat
to anyone who will come within your reach.
You sit on your ass and search for an invective to screech.

Then you have the nerve to wonder why you sit home alone
and that to this very day, there’s nothing for you to atone.
But your day is coming mother. It may not be here yet,
but then again, you may already be paying your debt.

Your favorite one of us died from drugs years ago
and the man you couldn’t leave hated your ass from the get-go.
Even his friends said he died to get away from you
and this I can believe because I’d do the same thing too.

So sit in your big falling down house and think,
think of all the reasons why you should take to drink.
Believe that you are good and that all others are at fault
And you’ll still deny your evilness when they lower you in that vault.

And lower you they will mother, for we must all go that route.
But don’t you think for one second that your ‘goodness’, I will tout.
You are evil personified and though I may drop dead first,
at least I’ll have the pleasure of knowing that your ass is accursed.

You will lie beside a man who hated you to the end.
Your youngest died years ago and she was a dope fiend.
And yet you blame us for problems we never placed at your door
even though you share the blame because we are what you bore!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2019 Shelby I. Courtland

I am going to attempt to find the words to convey just what emotions you evoke in me mother; hate, disgust, loathing and yes…pity, for you are so despicable, nasty and hateful that no one wants to come around you and I actually pity you. I spent so many years trying to gain affection from you that was never yours to give because you hate yourself. You loathe yourself for why else would you stay with a man who, when you were pregnant with me, your first baby, threw you a quarter when you told him you were hungry and he said, upon throwing you a quarter, “Here, I wouldn’t want to see a dog hungry.” And yet you thought so little of yourself that not only did you continue to lie with that slug, you brought two more children into this world to be condemned to live with two people who hated each other. We learned to hate as well.

I used to think that the house we lived in was haunted because all of a sudden, everyone inside it would go the fuck off and get to cussing each other out for no apparent reason. I watched on so many occasions, that sperm donor we were supposed to call, “Dad,” come in and beat your ass! Every weekend it was, wasn’t it mother? And what did you do? Why you went to the police station, pressed charges and three days later, your husband…our father was back inside the house. And it was going to be just a matter of time before it happened again and again and again. And yet, you expected us to grow into healthy, mentally strong adults when we had no guidance whatsoever from the likes of you and our sperm donor dad. I sit somewhere posting poems for a sister who you showered with whatever your brand of ‘affection’ can be called simply because she was lighter than myself and my other sister. I remember you making us go to bed when the sun was still out in the summer just because dad hadn’t come home from work and you knew where he was. Like that was our fault. You would get us up in the middle of the night and take us to illegal ‘nip’ joints that sold bootleg liquor just because you saw dad’s car parked there. Small children we were and in our nightclothes and yet you told us to “Go in and find your daddy!” You knew what would happen when we did because any attention from him was better than no attention from him. You were mentally ill then and you still are. We just didn’t know it. We longed for you to leave. We’d have been better off if you had. But no, you had to continue to tell anyone who would listen just how put upon you were, just how long suffering you were. Oh, the pity parties you threw. How I hate you! And though so many of your ‘acquaintances’ have dropped dead, there you still sit, in your misery and hatefulness and spitefulness, you manipulative control freak. The saying is, “You can’t kill the devil!” And ‘they’ must be right because you’re still sitting above ground. The devil doesn’t even want your foul ass and no wonder!

Well mother, I could continue in this vein, but you know what you’ve done. I needn’t display ALL of what you think are your dirty little secrets. But newsflash mother! No one has ever bought that bullshit! No one! So save it! That is why no one comes around you anymore because they don’t want to hear you laud yourself to all and sundry when everyone knows what a miserable piece of shit you really are. Deal with what you are and come to terms with it. The rest of us have. And so with that having been said, “Go to hell mother!” oh and, “Happy Birthday!”

Through Red And Angry Eyes!

 

When I first started blogging,
I was gentle as a lamb.
But today, my rants and ravings
couldn’t compete in a poetry slam.

Oh I come out smoking hot,
full of rage and indignation
at a society of clueless cretins
who compound my own frustration.

When I said my pen was drained,
just a few short years ago,
I should have thrown in the towel,
but what kept me going was my ego.

I was such an attention seeker
who was so pleased with what I wrote,
I quite forgot to temper my anger
and on my own bile, I almost choke.

I’ve written many a poem
and what I once thought of as prose,
but now I foam at the mouth
and no poem, can I compose.

Through red and angry eyes,
I view the world with a vengeful gaze.
I no longer believe in humanity
or think there is hope for better days.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2018 Shelby I. Courtland

I remember when I first started blogging, I was inspired and had not yet been tainted by all of the things that have now made me rage and lash out at the world. I am filled with such a white hot blazing anger that some times, I quite fear that I shall go mad. I used to pen poems about the homeless and oh how sincere I was. That is why I titled this blog, “Bringing Social Issues To The Forefront,” because I wanted to highlight the societal ills that affected so many people. I wanted to try and shed a spotlight on those who are forgotten, overlooked and ignored. I wanted to shed a light on human suffering, but by doing so, I suffered for it. Those of us who are truly caring, apparently, can only take but so much before it starts tearing away at our very soul. I am becoming something I once abhorred; a cold, callous, hateful and vengeful person who has lost her way.

I cannot find in me the poetry that once used to flow so freely from my mind to my fingers. And that is why I don’t post poems anymore. I just don’t have them in me; not the ones that I look back on and read and I can tell that I put deep feeling into them; they are me. What I write now is what I have turned into.

There have been so many people that I have fallen out with who I used to hold in high esteem, but because of what I allowed in, I’ve cussed people out, called them out and have hurt people and that was never who I was, but that is who I am now. We are letting the evil that is in the very air we breathe into our bodies and that evil is building in strength and we are hating each other because we have allowed others to feed us their hate, their callousness, their disregard for human life, their greed, their selfishness and their depravity and we have, some of us that is, swallowed it down and brought it back up. We are consumed with hatred for each other like I’ve never seen before and I am quite guilty of this. Most days I am livid from the time I wake up until the time I close my eyes in sleep and I carry this around with me every single day. I do not like what I have become and if I continue to feed the flames of hatefulness that has consumed so many, I can no longer take the high road. I must admit that I am just like them.

And lastly, I did not even heed the words of my own poem, “Yield Not To Temptation!”

The Day Before My Birthday!

birthday

The day before my birthday
is a melancholy one.
I sit here contemplating
what I should do for fun.

Would a trip to New York
be just the thing for me?
 Or should I relax in the tub
and go on a shopping spree?

As I reflect on my life,
I wonder what would I miss
if I never saw another day?
 Would I still live like this?

Did I ever touch one single heart
or let someone know I cared?
Was I always just too shallow
since love, I never shared?

What a loveless life I’ve lived.
With no thought for those I hurt.
I just pack and move elsewhere
like some twenty year old flirt.

It’s always been about me.
I’ve never lived for another.
This aimless life, I choose
when faced with love, I burn rubber.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2016 Shelby I. Courtland

I don’t know where this came from, I really don’t except for the fact that I always get a little maudlin around my birthday because of the fact that I’m on the ‘wrong’ side of 25 and each year causes me to reflect a little bit deeper and this year, I’ve gone even deeper.

I remember when I was a child, I could not wait for my birthday because we were treated like a princess for the day; a big birthday party with so many friends over and lots and lots of gifts and all my favorite foods including my favorite cake. And now, it’s like, WOAH! What the hell??!! It’s like before I can blink twice, it’s my birthday again and all the gifts and hoopla still don’t make up for the fact that I’m getting older and older and feeling it. Oh well. I’ll get over it. I just wondered if anyone else over 25 experiences anything similar or do you just take it all in stride. I hope not too many are like me who cannot dwell in the present, but must forever look back on the past and compare it to today, most unfavorably.

Baltimore Or Bust!

Baltimore

 

To all my loyal readers, I want to thank you for coming to this blog and also I want to thank you for your support in encouraging me to continue to spit out the truth. But there comes a time when I must do more than spit out truth, I must roll my sleeves up and do what I can.

At one point, I thought that I wanted to pack up shop and head to a deserted island and lick my wounds, and quite actually, the wounds are real as a result of a horrific car crash, but nevertheless, I decided after finding out that the places I had chosen to look at were just as Americanized as America, why, I’ve decided to go back to a city that has long held a special place in my heart, Baltimore, MD.

So, in a few days time, I will be driving to Baltimore with a trailer hitched to the back of my vehicle and off to new adventures I go. I have been feeling stifled here in the Midwest and quite frankly, these people never grow on you, they’re just too bland and vanilla. I love fire and excitement and danger and gaiety, Black folks, good cooking like collard greens, yams and silver queen corn. I love to sit by the harbor and sip wine and reflect on how great it is to be alive and I can do none of that here in the Midwest because all I can reflect on is how miserable I am here. What the hell was I thinking in coming here in the first place? Oh well, tis too late to wonder about that especially seeing as how I am about to rectify that by moving back to the East Coast.

I have long been contemplating a move back to Baltimore and for those of you who have followed this blog for the past year or so, you know I have penned poems about how Baltimore charmed me. I am not just going back in an attempt to take up where I left off as that would be a foolish dream, I am well aware that things do not remain the same. However, the same crime and grime and prostitution, poverty, homelessness and the like exists and since I have a bit of means now, I intend to roll up my sleeves once again, and attempt to become part of the solution as opposed to part of the problem.

What that means for my blogging? Well now, it is going to be a while before I will be able to post anything here and so I just wanted you to know that when I stop posting my vitriolic rants and raves, kick-ass poems that’s got me winning awards(Thank you AGAIN Nidotopianwarrior), it is because I will be caught up in all things, Baltimore. Now, some people have told me, recently, that I am the biggest fool there is for heading to a city where many are trying to leave and I have said to them, “If there were more people like me trying to help instead of just ignoring the problems, maybe Baltimore would become a city that shines by day as well as by night.” And there is something about that city, despite its many ails and issues, that will not let me be. Baltimore is a drug; it is heady as champagne for me. I’ll not stop drinking champagne and now, I must heed Baltimore’s call. That is the first city that I ever stepped foot in that literally pulled me in and folks, I gotta tellya, I started running away from home at the age of 15 and I was headed for Las Vegas then. GEEZUS, the stories I could tell. KKKops chasing me from city to city with teletypes following me and yet, I never was caught. “Up yours, mother!” KKKops just ain’t that smart when a 15-year old girl can walk right off a Greyhound bus, stare them in the face and request her luggage from the attendant and sashay into the bus terminal. Nope, KKKops just ain’t that bright at all! “Up yours too, KKKops!”

But as usual, I digress! The story of my life, eh? Anyhoo, I will be staying in a nice hotel down by the harbor while my new place is being readied for me. My furniture will be following me down since I never can plan anything, I am just a spur-of-the-moment type girl and that is how it has always been with me. The only place I have ever stayed  at for any length of time is Baltimore and I think the reason being is that Baltimore is just so close to everything. In a few hours, I was in Philadelphia, then in Atlantic City and could skip over to New York. Although, I’ve only passed through New York and never stopped long enough to do anything, but I hope to change all of that.

So, folks, as you can see, I am going to be extremely busy in the for seeable future and this is the only chance I am going to have to let you in on what I will be up to in the coming months. I hope that you all don’t miss me too much! LOL! Yeah! I know. Who is going to miss my carrying on fits? Hell! I’ve just been sent a comment stating that I am just too much to take. Oh, well, we can’t all be boring! Someone’s got to be the life of the party and it may as well be me. Now, don’t bother correcting my bad grammar here as this is straight from the heart and has not been edited and proofread, so cut me some slack.

I do want you to know that once I have been back in Baltimore long enough for Baltimore to soothe my ache for that city, I shall make my presence known in here once more, but I have no idea when that will be. So, this blog shop will be closed until further notice. But for those of you who will miss me too much and will shed copious tears of distress over this, archive to your heart’s content and know that wherever I am, I will be stirring up some shit to no end. Hell! I may even make the news. It is certainly my intent. Even though I may not be posting here, you may actually see me in action. So, don’t be surprised because I do not intend to be the silent one when I get settled in Baltimore. Never that!

And to those of you who I hold in high esteem, much love to you! You know who you are! And as always, I appreciate you, one and all!

I Am The Proud Recipient Of One Of The Grand Nidotopian Afro-Power Awards

awarded to me

 

And I did not have to answer a lot of useless questions in order to be awarded this. I was awarded this because of the hard work that I put into this blog and quite frankly, that in and of itself, should be enough if someone wants to give me an award. There should be no strings attached because when bloggers like myself, post their own content including poetry and essays, we have already done the hard part. To expect us to answer a lot of dumb questions and start what basically amounts to a chain letter is just beyond the end of enough and quite frankly, I breathed a sigh of relief when fellow bloggers stopped nominating me for awards that I had to ‘earn’ above and beyond what I was doing that got me nominated in the first place.

So, keep your awards that come with strings attached. I appreciate being recognized and rewarded on the strength of what I do on a daily basis. I have no time to answer useless questions and then make up others. My work is original and that right there should speak for how much time and effort is put into it.

Nidotopianwarrior, you are the exception and not the rule because you presented to me this award without any strings attached and I cannot thank you enough. Because you recognized all the effort that is put into what bloggers like me, do. You understand that it takes a lot to put together poetry and pictures to accompany it and in addition to that, write my own essays and do research on them before I publish them, as well. Not to mention, that other things are going on at the same time.

And so, I want to take this opportunity to laud you for recognizing everything that must be done before the final product is published and again, for awarding me this coveted prize. I will treasure it always and I shall continue to strive to outdo myself and to continue to produce work of value and excellence and live up to your faith in me as the “fierce, the fearless and kickass queen of afro-centricity!”

Again, I am most honored and humbled! Thank you! I accept! 

Sometimes, I Wish I Had A Heart To Break!

broken heart

Sometimes, I wish I had a heart to break.
I have never known love; I hear it’s about give and take.

Whenever I thought I was in love, it turned out to be just lust.
And if I am to go through life without love, then I must.

Now, I am not saying that I have had no relationships at all.
I am merely saying that when it came time to end, I took no fall.

I did not feel any ache or loss that should have hit me deep.
My doomed lover would look at me as though he expected me to weep.

What a disappointment I must have been for I could not manage one tear.
And each time, I walked away with eyes, not red with tears, but crystal clear.

No, I am not bragging or pretending that this is normal in any way.
But I read so many stories of lovers having parted at the end of the day.

And each took something away with them of a lesson learned,
that even though love was once shared, in the end, they got burned.

Yet through it all; the heartache and the tears, they would do it over again;
 endure the highs and the lows and when it’s over, take it on the chin.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2016 Shelby I. Courtland

And no, I am not feeling sorry for myself, I am just wondering at what I have been missing since lovers speak of having gained from the experience of love and loss and how it may be difficult, but in time, they eventually pick themselves up, dust themselves off and get back on that particular horse. I always wonder about something that has never affected or infected me, like love. And please, please do not state that I have just not found the right one and that the right one will fall into my lap when I am least expecting it. I do not wish it anyway. I am not capable of ‘deep and true’ love or I would know it by now. I have no ‘love’ to give. I am far too selfish, apparently. I have other sterling qualities, if I may be so bold as to toot my own horn, but none of us are perfect. *wink*

Just Go Outside!

Look at this beauty!

I am always pissing and moaning, whining and wailing, but look at the view I have. This is taken while picnicking by the lake today. Isn't it beautiful?
I am always pissing and moaning, whining and wailing, but look at the view I have. This is taken while picnicking by the lake today. Isn’t it beautiful?
Wonderfully cloudy and windy, but still, a gorgeous day!
Wonderfully cloudy and windy, but still, a gorgeous day!
Just lovely! And so relaxing!
Just lovely! And so relaxing!
Sunny and cloudy at the same time. But still, so beautiful!
Sunny and cloudy at the same time. But still, so beautiful!

 

A hint of blue breaking through the cloud cover!
A hint of blue breaking through the cloud cover!

 

A little more clouds, a little less blue, but the trees don't care! So, why should I?
A little more clouds, a little less blue, but the trees don’t care! So, why should I?

 

Who could not love that view?
Who could not love that view?

 

Gorgeous! Gorgeous!
Gorgeous! Gorgeous!

 

A bit of green, blue and white! What a combination of nature!
A bit of green, blue and white! What a combination of nature!

 

More green with a wee bit of blue and white!
More green with a wee bit of blue and white!

 

Awesome!
Awesome!
I am blessed!
I am blessed!

 

 

I wrote a little poem of just my observations, so this is raw because today, I like it raw!

 

Nature, Bring Me Down To Earth!

 

Her serene and wild beauty soothes me to my soul.

She’s the mother of all things and she never grows old.

She doesn’t let war and radiation completely wear her down.

And though she is mistreated, you’ll never see her frown.

Her clouds still roll across the sky and the birds still peck for worms.

Man thinks that he can tame her, but he lives here on her terms.

She speaks to me and she tells me to find some peace and tranquility.

And that happiness can be found, it’s not an impossibility.

She exhorts me to come and enjoy what she has to offer.

She is fiercely protective of her children, so please, don’t cross her.

She surrounds you everyday with open loving arms.

You don’t need to stay angry, just surrender to her charms.

 

Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland

©2016 Shelby I. Courtland

Get Up Girl And Live Life To Its Fullest!

private bathroom

Where is the adventuress that has always been me?
How can I get her back and when did she flee?

Who is this person who sits alone in the dark?
Why is she so angry and what lit the spark?

Has she let the horrors of this world get to her?
What does she have to fear from a racial slur?

Tell her you love her no matter what.
Make her understand, she’s got to go with her gut.

Don’t let her listen to the doubts in her mind.
Let her know that she’s got more heart than most of mankind.

Get up girl and live life to its fullest.
Pack a bag and become life’s tourist.

Journey far and never settle for less.
Don’t put up with people and don’t accept their mess.

You’re not stupid and you’re damn sure not brain dead.
So, go where you want to go and not where others have tread.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2016 Shelby I. Courtland

I wrote this about me because lately, I have been down in the dumps because there is so much that I want to do and yet, I am hindered by my sense of responsibility. I am hindered by my sense of duty and obligation. I am supposed to be enjoying myself in my lean-to on a deserted island and yet, I am getting cussed out daily by my cousin because the mental health care profession filled him full of anti-depressants and anti-psychotics and when the medications started killing him, he got off them and now his brain is fried. He lost 154lbs. He is no longer diabetic  or obese. He no longer has a cholesterol or triglycerides problem. His pancreas is back to normal. His heart condition is gone and yet, he will never be ‘all there’ mentally. Yes indeed, I have so many reasons to ‘thank’ the ‘health care’ profession in AmeriKKKa, it is unreal! Heavy on the sarcasm!

And now, I have got to cut this short because I just got a call from him, stating that he has run out of money and is stranded and I must come and pick him up. Since I have his POA(Power of Attorney), health care directive and Living Will, I am responsible for every aspect of his life and there is no one else who will step up to the plate. His immediate family gave up on him decades ago and he has followed me everywhere I go. That is why when I mention that I am dining out with my cousin, who else can I dine with because I am constantly getting him out of trouble and so, there goes any social life for me? And when we are out dining, I am usually embarrassed because he just gets to cussing and carrying on at me for no reason. Waiters and other diners stare at us. The last time we were at Fogo de Chao, he sat and sat and sat until even the gracious waiters were looking pointedly at us. When I mentioned this to him, did the high ceilings in Fogo de Chao, vibrate? Indeed they did!

I feel like a person who has been given a life sentence. Goddamn! I want to break free of this jail sentence! You don’t have to actually be locked up behind bars to be imprisoned, believe me, I know!

Just as I was about to conclude this, I re-read the poem and I called my cousin back and I told him, “Get ta steppin! You’ve got a long walk but since you’re no longer overweight, you can do it!”

Ladies, and I am speaking solely to the ladies here, you don’t need a man to complete you and let me tell you something else, every single man that has ever been in my life has done me more harm than good. I can honestly say that when I am doing things all by myself, I do them better and I am always at my best. I have been married and it was the biggest mistake of my life. A husband did nothing but put me through hell, just as my cousin is doing. It is high time that we let these men who say they are “men” be men and take care of themselves. If we don’t look out for ourselves, they won’t. The ‘men’ who have been in my life, certainly did not look out for me.

And so, next month, since I’ve got some shopping and some packing to do, I am going on a journey to find ‘the adventuress’ that used to be ME, again. I am going to understand that I was not put on this earth to be caretaker to every lost soul on it, to the detriment of my own. Sometimes, you have got to be more ‘self-loving, than self-less.

Ladies, take care of you because I am starting right now!

Asshole Magnet!

allposters

 

This here blog seems to be a magnet for assholes. What the hell??!! I realize that I have asked that particular question numerous times over the past five days, and apparently, the beat goes on. I re-blogged a fellow bloggers post and did I catch hell or did I catch hell? I caught hell! I guess it comes with the territory, but be that as it may, I am attempting to demagnetize this here blog and my readers know that I go extremely public when shaking off assholes and so without further ado, let the shaking begin!

The blog post in question was in regards to the labels that are assigned to those of us who are descendants of slaves. Now, I do understand that everyone is entitled to their own opinion and Lawd knows, I have put up with much in here, but when the shit gets too deep, I’ve just got to scoop it out, publicly.

The blog post title: Don’t Label Me Black OR African American. I’m A Negro.

I re-blogged it and added this comment.

Shelby Courtland comment:

“Hear! Hear! I love it!!!! A ‘militant’ after my own heart!”

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Ronbrownx comment:

“That’s cool, but when Whites start “mispronouncing” that particular label PURPOSELY and PUBLICLY then excusing themselves for their “feigned” ignorance, AFTER the damage is done; what then will be our reaction?”

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Shelby Courtland commented:

“They do so now. Apparently, you are not from the south as I have had ‘whites’ call me that on my job many years ago. They don’t need us to refer to ourselves as being of the Negroid race before calling us the ‘N’ word. They are unapologetically calling us that now as they have for centuries. It is time that we define who we are and not let some racist asshole stop us because we are concerned over how they will react. I am now in the Midwest and though racism is vicious and feral here, I have yet to be called the ‘N’ word to my face.

The damage is already done and what has been our reaction? Why, we call ourselves the ‘N’ word and then get all bent out of shape when ‘whites’ use it.

I don’t use the ‘N’ word in my everyday language, but I hear it from plenty other Negroes and I flinch when I hear it because to me, they have taken the most derogatory word in history and applied it to themselves. They don’t even care about the origins of that word. And for those who say that Negroes use it as a term of ‘endearment’ is just ludicrous. Because there was nothing endearing about slavery, whippings, lashings, rape, pedophilia, molestation, torture, mutilation and chains.

I thank you for your comment!”

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Ronbrownx comment:

“Yassum! I’s bone in 1961, (the year Kennedy started serving his presidential term) in Cuthbert, Georgia, population 3,731 (yep, try to find that one on the map). I lived there uninterrupted, except for a one year stay in Eufaula, Alabama, until I entered the military in 1979. So, I know a wee bit about the South.

During my early years, we were called Negros. We didn’t select this label, it was placed upon us; even the great MLK, used the term, but check out this excerpt from an article by Adam Serwer, MSNBC, (April 12, 2014), “Lyndon Johnson said the word “nigger”. In Senate cloakrooms and staff meetings, Johnson was practically a connoisseur of the word. According to Johnson biographer Robert Caro, Johnson would calibrate his pronunciations by region, using “nigra” with some southern legislators and “negra” with others. Discussing civil rights legislation with men like Mississippi Democrat James Eastland, who committed most of his life to defending white supremacy, he’d simply call it “the nigger bill.”

What Johnson and others like him (George Wallace, Bull Connor etc.) did was moderate their use of, Negro, Negra, Nigra or NIgger, to fit the audience or situation. Often, they would use Negra or Nigra instead of Negro as if they were simply variations in the way Negro is pronounced and not derogatory proxies for the word Nigger. We, who grew up during those days were just as offended by the words Negra and Nigra, as we were Nigger, for you see, we knew that they were “code-switching” and that even presidents and governors could use Negra and Nigra claiming that those words were simply regional dialectical variations of the “proper” label, Negro.

My fear is, that if you say, “call me a Negro”, you’re going to be giving a lot of slick mouthed racists a license to use equally degrading terms like Negra and Nigra while claiming that that’s just the way they talk. Nothing illegal, immoral, politically incorrect about that.

Also, while growing up in the South, I had access to my grandmother’s 1957 Compton’s encyclopedias. In the “R” encyclopedia, under the title, “Race”, was the authors’ attempts at explaining the difference between the races. They grouped the entirety of humanity into three “racial” groups; Mongoloid, Caucasoid, and Negroid. The Mongoloid were described as; straight, black haired, yellow-skinned, flat nosed, short legged, flat-headed, and slant-eyed. The Caucasoid were described as: white to pink-skinned; straight or curly haired; slender aquiline nosed; narrow face and high forehead; thin lips; tall, well built people. The Negroids were described as; short or tall; blue-black to light brown skin; large, wide, flat-nosed; tightly coiled or kinky haired, wide set eyes, thick-lipped people.

Now I ask you, do those parameters, properly delineate your families, friends, and so on?

Those groupings, (Negroid, Mongoloid, and Caucasoid), went out of date with my Granny’s Compton encyclopedias. Race is a man-made concept. Genetically, there is virtually no difference between individual human beings. It’s like looking a bumblebees and establishing divisions based on whether the yellow stripe comes first or the black stripe. It is a ludicrous concept.

When the space aliens look at us through their high-powered telescopes, do you think that they’ll be sorting us into; Negroid, Caucasoid and Mongoloid? I think not. Those aliens (if there be any) will simply see one intelligent, two-legged, two-armed species called the Human species. When they abduct you and sequence your genome, they’ll decide that, except for minor color variations, they’re all the same species.

If you believe in evolution, then at one time, thousands or millions of years ago, there existed many species of humans; Neanderthal, Denisovan, Homo Erectus, Homo Habilis and hundreds of others, but, they’re all extinct, only one species survived; Homo Sapiens–us.”

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Shelby Courtland comment:

Well, I guess I can’t argue with you being born in the south, however, this is not about what other people refer to me as, it is about who I say I am. Every single decade, we are giving a new ‘label’ by the Caucasians, i.e., Colored, Black, African-American and yes, even Negro, but we are so much more than a mere ‘label’. The birth certificates of Caucasians have not changed down through the years, so why ours? I don’t care what Johnson said. He is as irrelevant to me as are those racist, slave-owning so-called ‘founding fathers’ since they did not represent me because my ancestors were not even considered to be ‘human’ by those vile creatures. We could argue semantics all day and all night with respect to the fact that as a race of people, we have been denigrated relentlessly and for no other reason than over something that we have no control over; the color of our skin. When we fill out an application, on the application, we have to check the box labeled: African-American or Black and then check the box: non-Hispanic. And now, another box has been added: ‘other’. America is the only nation or country on the planet that does this and quite actually makes this whole ‘race’ issue, a catastrophic event and it is designed to keep us looking at one another, not as Americans, but as different ‘sub’ groups. It is a way to keep us in ‘our place’, so that we don’t get any fancy ideas that we are actually included in the Constitution and all other documents that pertain to freedoms and rights in this shithole.

The way we are perceived by the Caucasians in this shithole is no different from the way we were perceived when the Declaration of Independence was drafted by a pack of hypocrite slave owners. Their descendants will continue to call us out of our name just as their forefathers did. That is never going to change, regardless of what we call ourselves. We cannot stop those creatures from calling us derivatives of the word ‘nigger’ or from even calling us, ‘nigger’. It is more important for me to know who I am and what I answer to and I don’t have to answer to the Caucasians when they call me out of my name. I am not beholden to them for a damn thing and I could care less what they call me. I don’t hesitate in my descriptions of them and I will not and it is not because I am playing ‘tit for tat’, it is because they do not hold the only patent on derogatory names. On my blog, I will call them whatever I damn well please and damn the consequences. No one has to like it, but there it is. If they don’t have to be ‘politically correct’ than neither will I. The gloves are off! They have been off for quite some time.

Those parameters don’t fit partly due to the rape of slaves that was incessant. Maybe those features do apply to certain tribes in Africa, but for those of us who are descendants of slaves that were dragged to America, they don’t fit much. How could they? But that does not mean that it would not apply if our ancestors had been left the hell alone in Africa and not dragged here.

And there are genetic differences. Make no mistake about that. We are not all the same. We are not all alike. Depending on the race of people, some are predisposed to certain diseases whereas others are not and it is due to their genetic makeup that they have in common. Certain features are prominent in some groups and not in others. It is only the fact of rape and inbreeding that results in crossover features and other characteristics and traits.

If there were aliens watching us from a distance, then yes, I think they would be sorting us into different groups because the group that is hell bent on fucking up this entire planet and making it basically uninhabitable are the Caucasians and this, any alien should be able to see with just a glance. No other group on this planet has done more damage to it than the Caucasians, so do not group me in with that vile filth because I am not one of them and I am NOT anything like them! Not now! Not ever!”

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Ronbrownx comment:

“Well, first of all Shelby, we didn’t choose the “label” Negro, but we did choose “Black” and “African American” so….What DO you want to be called? I’m just saying that, maybe “Negro” is not the best choice.

Why label at all? I personally would prefer no label except, maybe, “Child of God”.

According to research done by the National Coalition for Health Profession Education in Genetics, “…ANY two humans are approximately 99.9 percent identical at the DNA sequence level…this indicates that we are genetically quite similar to one another.”

Let’s put that into perspective, I had a DNA test done to prove paternity of my youngest son. The results were 99.99 percent that “I am that baby’s daddy”. Do you know what that means? Child support for 18 years.

The Human family is 99.99 percent IDENTICAL!

Also, it is ILLEGAL for any job application to ask about your “race”. They can only ask AFTER you have been hired for “affirmative actions” purposes. If you are being asked these type questions on job interviews, you should report them to the EEOC.

As far as what you call Caucasians, who cares? You’re preaching to the choir. We, who read your blog, share that < 1/10 of a percent of human genome difference as you, in other words, we’re “Black” too. The people who you are calling “whatever I damn well please” are not even reading your blog, or , for that matter, even aware of your blog. They don’t know how angry you are; they don’t care how hurt you are. You’re just a voice crying in the wilderness. I hear you, but they don’t!

What are you going to do about that? or are you just going to keep telling those of us, who already know how you feel, how you feel?

Did you know that our tribal ancestors, who inhabited West Africa during the 400 year reign of the American, British, Portuguese, French and Spanish slave trade, owned slaves too. As a matter of fact, most of the slaves brought to the U.S. were sold or traded to the White slave traders by West African tribesmen, who enslaved and sold those captured in tribal battles and wars, or who were deemed “criminals” by their tribes or enemy tribes? For them, the White slave trader was a handy way of banishing their “unwanted” forever, without having to have their victim’s blood on their hands. It’s horrific, but true. This by no means, absolves the White trader from guilt. If he had not provided the market, then the business of slave trade would not have been so lucrative for the West African African tribesmen. But even without the Slave market provided by the White traders, the fate of the captives of the the warring West African tribes would not have been a good one; for you see, these tribesmen would have simply murdered the captives. They wouldn’t have risked keeping them alive, because they were considered dangerous, and might attempt insurrection or escape. This attitude only applied to the males. The females were retained by their captives and made “members” of the tribe.

I served 20 years in the U.S. Air Force. I was sworn to defend the country and it’s Constitution; even though, the “founding fathers” did NOT write it to include “Blacks”, nor was the Declaration written to include “Blacks” but what it did was establish a Supreme Court of the U.S. to provide, continuous, interpretation and re-interpretation of its tenants; and it provided for a Legislature to create new laws and amendments. Throughout the years this has happened, both against “Blacks” i.e. “The Dredd Scott Decision” and in favor of “Blacks” i.e. 13th, 14th, 15th Ammendments to the Consititution. There were also decisions like; “Plessy vs Ferguson; Brown v Education, and the “Civil Rights act of 1964″and the “Voter’s Rights Act of 1965” . All of these had major impacts on the lives of African Americans in this “shithole”.

My point is, despite the trials and tribulations we’ve experienced, I’ve put my life on the line to defend the advances and rights we’ve “earned” through much death, bloodshed, and destruction. I think I’d choose to remain in this “shithole” rather than live in any other.

Let me ask you a hypothetical question: If you moved into an apartment but everything was wrong in it; the landlord was a crook, the water had rust in it, the plumbing sucked, the paint was peeling, the air didn’t work, the rugs were stained with dog piss and the ceiling was leaking, in other words, it was a complete SHITHOLE, What would you do?

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Shelby Courtland comment:

“I don’t know how we could choose ‘African-American’ because we are not a hyphen. An ‘African-American’ is an African who immigrated to America, became an American citizen, hence ‘African-American. That is not me. I would define myself as human’ but according to this shithole, I’m not even totally ‘human’. I am not the one who insists that there be a string of hyphens and pronouns describing my identity.

I am not a ‘child of god’. If you think for one second that I would practice any form of so-called ‘religion’, think again. Religion is for the weak-minded who need something to believe in and who need to be kept in line by some fake-assed made-up Santa Claus in some fairytale land of ‘heaven’. Seriously? I was one of the flock of the brainwashed when I was a child, but I soon threw that yoke of oppression off my shoulders. I think for myself and I don’t need to head inside a palace of worship every Sunday morning to hear the ‘word’ as told by a hypocrite who himself/herself is more sinful than I am. But because he/she has a Master of Divinity degree or not because it would seem that anyone who can get some dumb schmucks to sit up and listen to them drone on and on about the scripture, can open up a ‘church’ these days and amass a fortune from the gullible and the stupid, and I am supposed to sit up and listen to fairytale after fairytale? Nothing fucking doing.

So, you had a DNA test and it proved that it was a 99% probability that you were the child’s father? Well, if you say that any two human’s DNA is 99% identical, then the father of the baby could be any other human. This doesn’t even make any sense because a DNA test would not work if that be the case. Unless I’m missing something here.

I am not merely speaking of ‘identity’ as it relates to our options on employment applications, but about the fact that when the census comes around, we must choose the ‘box’ or boxes’ that match what we identify as.

And as for my ‘preaching to the choir’ and Caucasians not reading what I write, how would you know? You don’t know how many different groups find their way onto this blog and if I write to my goddamn self, that is my choice to do so. I don’t need validation from you or anyone else. If everyone felt like you do, no one would ever write a goddamn thing, including blogs, books, poetry, screenplays; the whole nine yards. You have a blog, so why do you have one if there is no point to all of this? You are welcome to your opinion, I just happen to disagree with it, wholeheartedly. And quite actually, you contradict yourself over and over. And if you have a problem with me ‘telling people how I feel and continuing to tell people how I feel’ then feel free to move the hell along. I am not here to answer to you and to you alone and so who do you think you are to question what I do and why I do it? Again, if you find what I write here to be of no value whatsoever, then why are you here? You pompous, arrogant blowhard, don’t come this way again! I am not so desperate as to need shits like you to come onto my blog and question why I’m even writing. That is MY business! You got that! So, take your dumbass questions and stick ’em where the sun don’t shine!

And for the motherfuckers that are slow or otherwise dumb ass hell like this here motherfucker, I have delved into the African tribal leader slave trade shit and I am not about to get it started back up. Archive to your heart’s content!

And since you felt the call of duty to serve in the Air Force, what do you want me to do? “Thank you for your service?” Because if you do, you are looking at a mighty long wait because I don’t thank military whores for fucking people up in other countries who have done them no wrong. If you’re a ‘child of god’, then that is something that you are going to have to answer for on judgment day. Not me. Because even if you saw no actual combat, by signing on the dotted line, you agreed to fire a weapon at someone who you did not even know and attempt to kill them. But you’re going to ask me about being ‘a child of god’? Are you serious? You’re just another one of those hypocritical, worthless ass, hypnotized Christian shits who go on and on about the bible and the rapture and some more shit and turn right around and piss on your own damn religion. You’re full of it! Take your dumbass elsewhere! It’s not needed in here!

And lastly, since your last paragraph is a hint at me to leave this shithole if I don’t like it, you can shove that up your ass also because I will do as I damn well please and I am under no obligation to ‘like all up and down’ on this shithole…AND…I can denounce it until the cows come home go back out and come back home AGAIN and what I say about this shithole is MY opinion to which I am entitled. Furthermore, I never asked you to put a goddamn thing on the line for this fucking shithole. You chose to do that and so don’t expect to receive any kudos from me for doing so. Go to your Reverend and ask him for a vote of confidence, but I am not the one and I will not tolerate the likes of your ass coming in here and shitting all over the place while attempting to get me to understand that you are merely laying down rose petals. Git ta steppin’! I am on a roll lately with getting fucked up ass motherfuckers out of my face! So, in here, your number is UP! Next!

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Again, I do realize that all sorts of assholes are on the internet and that there are more than likely more assholes on the internet than are decent people and this is to be expected. However, I want everyone to understand…AGAIN…that from now on when I see comments that continue on and on, as the above, and get ever more absurd and contentious to the point where they cross the line, rather than close comments, the delete button will be used without hesitation because I can agree to disagree up to a certain point, but when I have reached that point, I am not putting up with any more shit! I have tried to make this understood on previous posts, but so far, to no avail. The shit stirrers who come here and deposit their shit are going to be dismissed because I have reached the point where I am fed up with being asked to explain myself or be preached at for my supposed ‘intolerance’. If I have said it once, I have said it a thousand times, if you do not like what you see here and if what you see here has no relevance, then why the fuck are you here, reading it…AND…coming back for more? Just pass by this blog and go onto whatever floats your boat. But this is the straw that broke the camel’s back. I don’t need to explain to anyone why I am blogging. I don’t need to explain to anyone just what my purpose is. And it is always those who claim to have some overwhelming amount of ‘tolerance’ and who accuse me of having a lack of tolerance who then turn around and display their lack thereof. I am no hypocrite, unlike many and I have stated that yes, I am intolerant of what goes against MY principles, values, morals and decency and I stand by that and make no apologies for it. So, for those of you who have a problem with this, once AGAIN, if you don’t move yourself the hell on, I will move your ass on for you! Make no mistake about that!