Nipsey Hussle Never Forgot Where He Came From! He Tried To Give Back! Rest In Peace, Brotha!

 

 

He Was Rising To The Top!

Try to make a difference and they kill you just like that.
They’ll blame it on a brotha and say they had a beef; a spat.
The white man ain’t gone let us get his boot up off our neck.
To see our lives improve ain’t why he went and stacked the deck.
It don’t matter what year this is, we is slaves, it ain’t gone change;
Hyde Park, Compton, Detroit, DC, we’re still in bullet range.
We git big for our britches and the white man slaps us down!
He makes sure that in our own blood, we lie somewhere and drown.
With surveillance cameras everywhere, we still don’t stand a chance.
A Black man’s gone git blamed for this, that’s gone be the official stance.
The Klan took Nipsey’s life and don’t you tell me otherwise.
With Trump inside the White House, that shit is on the rise.
Nipsey hustled long and he was rising to the top.
The whites couldn’t let that happen and so they got that shit to stop.
Believe whatever you want to believe, but the truth is there to see;
Nipsey was killed by a racist and not by some gangsta wannabe!

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

I am sure that all of you are aware that rapper Nipsey Hussle was murdered right outside his store in Hyde Park in Los Angeles, south of the Crenshaw area.

5:46 PM PT — Law enforcement sources tell TMZ  … the suspect cops are looking for is a black male in his 20s. We’re told he approached Nipsey and co. by foot Sunday afternoon and fired multiple shots … only to depart right after in what we’re told appeared to be a nearby waiting vehicle with a separate driver, who our sources say was female. 

5:12 PM PT — Our law enforcement sources tell TMZ … Nipsey Hussle has died. He was 33 years old. He’s survived by two children and his girlfriend, Lauren London, with whom he had a child in 2016. 

Whites have long used Black people to set each other up to be killed. It is pretty easy to do when they control every aspect of our lives, from cradle to grave. It is no stretch of the imagination to believe that whites are behind this. The history of this shithole proves that.

During the early years of slavery, they pitted the house slaves against the field slaves. During the Civil Rights Movement, they infiltrated the Movement in every way possible including using Black informants to give them information on what peaceful Black people were doing in their struggle to gain equal rights. “Jim Crow” was also the law of the land in that Black people were not even allowed in restaurants, in swimming pools or any other place that contained a white body. We were deemed, and still are, inferior to the white man, which is a complete and utter lie! In the 1980s crack was introduced into Black communities, nationwide and the spiral downward as a result continues to this day. Mass incarceration resulted in the so-called “War on Drugs” which was in reality, a war on descendants of slaves and that war continues to this day. We have no friend in the white man and we never will despite the fact of how we got here. He seems unable to understand or accept the fact that but for his depraved, debased ancestors, we would not be here. Not one of us asked to be rowed to this shithole to be subjected to the white man’s shit and yet here we are. No other group is as put upon as descendants of slaves and if any other group has a problem with the whites over here, then take your ass back where you came, descendants of slaves cannot.

And so we come to our brotha, rapper Nipsey Hussle, who at one point in time was a member of a gang. He never hid the fact. And yet, to make ends meet, he sold incense out of his vehicle. He even stapled flyers onto telephone poles advertising his rap music until his career finally took off. But he never forgot where he came from and was trying to give back to the community he remained a part of. He had opened several successful businesses and was in the process of pursuing an even bigger venture that would have been life changing for many. But all of that came to a violent end when Nipsey Hussle was gunned down right outside his clothing store, Marathon Clothing.

Of course the narrative is that he was shot by a Black man. That is the ‘official story’ and I am sure that whitey parasite ass is sticking to it. I don’t care if a Black man comes forward and confesses to the crime, whites are behind this. They have never stood by and watched Black people succeed without stepping in and putting a halt to that. Never forget Black Wall Street. Never forget the Rosewood Massacre. Never forget what the whites did to the Black Panther Party and Movement. Never forget that the government bombed the MOVE headquarters in Philadelphia, PA. And the list is endless. I put nothing past whites and neither should you!

No matter what the white man says, I will never believe that a Black man is responsible for the death of Nipsey Hussle!

Bon voyage, Nipsey, bon voyage! And yes, you are finally free at last!

My people! Keep on risin’ to the top! Nipsey might be gone, but we are still here and so keep on risin’ to the top despite the white man keep trying to bring us down! Keep risin’!

The Meat Investor: Serving Man — billziegler1947

The year in review Livestock stocks ended the year strong as the present and futures markets overwhelmingly outperformed vegan stocks to bring a hefty profit to all our investors. “Serving Man” remains out motto for 2019, it affirms a self-serving stance that is forward-looking and alert to market opportunism. The meat of the matter is […]

via The Meat Investor: Serving Man — billziegler1947

 

Bill also wrote this comment on another blog that I think is extremely relevant here.

“The whole sick charade begins with children’s books about barnyard animals living happy lives from cover to cover, the meal that isn’t a meal unless it has a meat entree, the propagandists in the advertising world, the willingness of consumers to suspend disbelief… No mention of the factory death camps that kill by the billions (trillions of fish at the seafood corner of the stupormarket).”

And this one!

” Then there is what a meaty diet does to the only planet available, you can’t buy a replacement planet on Amazon Prime. 7.7 billion people eat 77 billion land-based animals and trillions of fish per year. This is the same species that drove the Passenger Pigeon into extinction, simply because it was the fast food of the day. Shoot into the air, bring home, dress, cook. Go out for more the next day. Martha, the last surviving one died at the Cincinnati Zoo: about 10 miles from this keyboard.
Meat means greenhouse gases. Here is a graphic representation of the role played by meat:
https://ourworldindata.org/grapher/greenhouse-gas-emissions-per-kilocalorie-of-food-production
As if that were not daunting enough, there are very many graphic representations from the same amazing website “our world in data”:
https://ourworldindata.org/meat-and-seafood-production-consumption
Meat is death.”


Bill is an intellectual genius; a brilliant, highly educated intellectual and a caring and concerned human who believes that ALL creatures, those deemed human and animal should live. One should not be killed and consumed for their parts by the other for what that is consumed dead is healthy for the living? And yet mass propaganda campaigns are waged day in and day out by those who make a fortune from getting humans to view animals as a ‘THING’ to be slaughtered and placed on their dinner plate for consumption while other ‘animals’ have been slated for their enjoyment as pets. And those ‘animals’ that are viewed as pets would never be slaughtered and placed on the plate by its owner. Oh no! Never in a million years must Fido or Fluffy ever be considered ‘food’. But since a cow, pig, Atlantic Croaker or Haddock, chicken and turkey have been rendered valueless as pets and are raised in areas far remote from humans, they are fair ‘game’ for killing and eating.

Those who brainwash us and lead us down the primrose path know exactly what it is they do. They are relentless in their pursuit to gain riches at the expense of both the land animals and marine life butchered for human consumption and they know full well the toll on human bodies this will take and their friends in the pharmaceutical industry also make out like bandits in their laboratories concocting toxic ‘prescriptions’ that also undermine what little health is left in their patients.

You have seen the commercials for the prescriptions you take to combat the diseases you acquire from eating dead animal products and byproducts. They are damn near as bad as the disease and can also cause death.

Here are the top 10 health concerns linked to meat consumption.
  • Heart Disease.
  • Cancer.
  • Stroke. Because meat causes blockages in blood vessels, it’s no surprise that it leads to strokes. …
  • Diabetes. …
  • Obesity. …
  • Harmful Cholesterol. …
  • Acne. …
  • Erectile Dysfunction.

https://mercyforanimals.org/here-are-the-top-10-health-concerns-linked

We, those of us who have decided that we don’t want heart disease, we don’t want cancer, stroke, diabetes, obesity, high cholesterol, acne and the rest and some of this we know that we can prevent, have chosen life over death. We have chosen the path that leads to an animal’s right to live just as we believe in a human’s right to live. And make no mistake, we did not choose to not consume dead animals merely for our health. We chose to not eat dead animals because we are ‘human’. We have a heart and we believe that all beings; animal, plant and human have the right to co-exist and one not be consumed by the other for its choice parts, filet mignon, porterhouse, rib-eye, bacon, ham, spareribs, crab legs, lobster tails, haddock fillet. What right have we as ‘humans’, as horrible as we treat other ‘humans’, to determine the fate of any sentient beings? We should not and yet we do so and thanks to apathy and complacency, our compliance and tacit consent is taken for granted in the slaughtering of animals for human consumption, not to mention the fact that we are loaded down, car deep at the McDonald’s drive-through window, Burger King’s, and Wendy’s as well and don’t even get me started on the All-You-Can-Eat buffet. Millions of Americans alone, are so obese, seat belts have added extensions. Airplane seats are having to be widened, scales at our doctor’s offices are having to be replaced with scales that weigh animals. And this is all because we just cannot understand that we are what we eat. There are programs on TV that showcase thousands of people needing gastric bypass surgery because they are unable to get out of bed since they weigh 600 lbs of mostly dead animals and other processed foods. Look it up! It’s called “My 600 Pound Life!” This shit’s not funny!

 

Yeah! That’s YOU! Because you ARE what you eat!

Me? I’d rather have this!

 

 

And I’ll leave you with a little poem that I wrote. Something else for you to ponder.

 

Don’t Mess With Fido!

Don’t mess with Fido and I love Fifi’s “Meow!”

But I don’t mind if you slaughter India’s sacred cow.

Sentient being or not, that pig’s going on my plate.

And little does she know, with a knife, she’s got a date.

Humans think they’re decent, compassionate and kind,

But when it comes to certain animals, to their suffering they are blind.

Thinking for themselves is just something they won’t do.

Why they’ve got a brain? They haven’t got a clue.

They’ll put cashmere on a dog and feed Fluffy, ‘Fancy Feast’.

But over the plight of barnyard animals, they don’t care in the least.

String that animal up and gut it with a blade.

As it was led to slaughter, so what if it looked afraid?

It was just a stupid cow and a pig should know its fate.

One was bound to end up bacon and the other, a rib-eye steak.

But my dog, you don’t touch and my cat is family.

What happens to cows and pigs? I have no sympathy.

The fish, deep in the ocean are caught up in a net,

and will end up as sushi, they’re not a cute and cuddly pet.

God gave man dominion and said, “You own all of this!”

But instead, we place our sins on a serpent’s vengeful hiss.

If we have freedom of choice, then it is we who choose to harm

every bird in the air, every creature in the sea and every animal on the farm.

poem written by,

Shelby I. Courtland

©2019 Shelby I. Courtland

 

 

Death!

Death, is not a sweet kiss,
nor is it a deep, gentle sigh.
Death, is a struggle for life,
but we lose… and so we die.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2017 Shelby I. Courtland

I cannot recall how many times I have heard, “He was in his death throes.” And they have been defined as “sudden violent movements that people sometimes make when they are dying.”

The will to live is so strong, but death will have the ‘final’ say.

Sirens Are Our Lullabies!

Shots ring out every night
in this city gushing blood.
And in daylight, it’s the same,
awash in a crimson flood.

Sirens are our lullabies;
a crime scene, our parade.
We stand and stare at the dead,
then into a grave, they are laid.

None of it makes any sense,
Black men killing their own kind.
And I just make excuses
as though to reality, I am blind.

I blamed it all on poverty;
a lack of jobs and single moms.
And I threw in for good measure
that so many are bearing arms.

I thought I had all the answers.
Open a store or two in the hood
that catered to the poor,
but that won’t do us any good.

What is needed, I don’t know.
I throw my hands up in the air.
Our murder rate is off the charts.
And it would seem that we don’t care.

Another day, another murder.
And sometimes, more than one.
We’re just mowing each other down,
and hell, there ain’t nowhere to run.

More babies without fathers,
more mothers without their sons
because we have lost our minds,
 when to solve our problems, we use guns.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2017 Shelby I. Courtland

‘Did you hear that?’: Amid Baltimore’s surge in killings, a faint cry in a locked car

BALTIMORE — No one saw the baby.

She sat in a gold-hued car with tinted black windows as her 26-year-old father lay on the ground outside, dying.

All eyes were on him, another fallen body in a city increasingly defined by them.

In portions of Baltimore, the strobe of police cars is as much a part of the landscape as boarded-up homes. But the pace of the killings this year has been stunning as the city struggles to recover from rioting in 2015. As of Friday, 124 people had been slain, including five on a recent day, making Baltimore’s homicide rate one of the highest in the country. It is more than triple Washington’s rate and higher than the homicide rates in New Orleans and Chicago, two places that have become national symbols of gun violence.

I came to this city, not with expectations of having everlasting fun, but with the hope that there was something I could do to help in a city that claimed my heart over a decade ago. And now, I am beyond frustrated. If I told you all that has happened to me since I’ve been here, you’d all wonder why I have not thrown myself into the nearest psych ward and wrapped my own ass in a wrap-around jacket. I have been carjacked, almost robbed at gun point on a city bus, my cousin was shot two months after arriving here and I am terrified to leave my own neighborhood. I am already preparing to leave this city. I have not seen anything like this. I guess when I was here before, I was young and fearless, but now that I am older and damn near completely incapacitated thanks to injuries, I look at things differently and I am absolutely horrified at what I see. This city is off the chain. I ask myself all the time, “What was I thinking?” And if you read the article, a statement by a former Baltimore planning director tells it all.

“People don’t realize it’s worse than Chicago,” said Otis Rolley, former Baltimore planning director and a onetime mayoral candidate. His 23-year-old nephew, Andrew Zachary, a former Marine, was the 15th person killed in the city this year. “This man was trained by the U.S. government and had the skills and ability to survive in a combat situation overseas but was unable to navigate the streets of Baltimore. And that is a scary, scary thing.”

There is no need to suit up and head to Iraq or Afghanistan to see some combat action, just come to Baltimore. You’ll get more ‘action’ than you bargained for, believe me! Baltimore is a warzone! Helicopters fly overhead, non-stop. Sirens are non-stop. It is not even safe to take public transit. It is not safe to drive. It is not safe to walk down the street. It is not safe to peep out your window. For the love of !!!!!

War, The Birth Of Death!

I was born old with the sounds of war
roaring through my head
and of scenes depicting
the fact that I am dead.

I am as old as war,
never to know peace
only sorrow, pain
and a cease fire that will not cease.

Brought forth in death
by man’s insatiable desire
to kill for profit and for pain
and war is my sire.

Though I may not have lines
or wrinkles on my forehead
nevertheless, I am old,
too old to live and so I die, instead.

War, the birth of death;
 for youth is drained and tired
but must fight to die;
as war’s bitter taste is acquired.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2017 Shelby I. Courtland

And so it goes, our children are born but why? They are born, dead for their bodies are mere pawns in wars, moved here and there on the chessboard of war, driven to war by war hawks and warmongers whose children grow rich and fat off the sacrifices of our children who are bred for their wars. We willingly give our children to be adopted by the warmongers and then we host parades praising them for taking our children and making them dead and/or old beyond their years. The voices in their heads, never leaving them even if they leave the battlefield and if they come back to us, it is in name only, for they are already dead since war is the birth of death.

$6.4 Million Dollars

Freddie Gray10

Case closed!

Baltimore officials approved a $6.4 million deal Wednesday to settle all civil claims tied to the death of Freddie Gray.
Gray suffered a fatal spinal injury while he was transported in a Baltimore police van in April.

The settlement does not “represent any judgment” on the guilt or innocence of the six police officers charged in the case, Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake said. “This settlement represents an opportunity to bring closure to the Gray family, the community and the city.”

Six point four million dollars
and you can’t spend a cent.
After attorney’s fees,
that money’s all but spent.

You are dead and buried.
They put a price on the how you died.
If there had been no witnesses,
again, they would have lied.

It’s cold comfort to you
that your family’s getting paid
by the City of Baltimore,
when in a coffin, you were laid.

And still, nothing’s changed.
The same shit is going down.
We protest another murder
of the Black and of the Brown.

We are all just refugees
 with no place to run.
They’ve got us hemmed in,
down to the last one.

Oh, we march down the street
like they did in sixty-three.
Dr. King and all the others
marched on Washington, DC.

Did it change things for you?
Oh that’s right, you can’t talk.
We’ll print another protest sign
and then we’ll take a walk.

Rest easy, Freddie Gray.
We shall surely make you proud.
Can’t you hear the pleas and cries
erupting from the crowd?

This time, it’s going to work;
this marching thing we do.
There’s no reason why it shouldn’t.
Ain’t that what we said to you?

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

So, the mayor of Baltimore says that, “It’s closure time!” Ain’t that a bitch? The coffin lid was ‘closed’ on Freddie Gray back in April. He has already gotten his ‘closure’. Can’t get more ‘closure’ than dead ‘closure’. What the fuck else is left? Oh right! The BIG payday. And who is going to get the bulk of the $6.4 million? The attorney and the ‘tax man’. What the Caucasoid giveth, he make sure you give it right back to his ass! Yep! Freddie Gray can rest easy now. Everything is cool. Mayor Rawlings-Blake made a statement and that statement is to all her ‘thugs’, uh…all of her constituents that ‘rioted’ that it is time for ‘closure’. See? Freddie Gray is happily silent over his $6.4 million dollar payout, his family’s lawyer can smile all the way to the bank and the City of Baltimore will get the majority of the payout back in taxes. All’s well that ‘ends’..uh…closures well!

Because Your Ass Is White!

wall street white assed thugs1

Standing on the corner,
I’ve got these drugs for sale.
I turn a teacher into a ho
and I send her straight to hell.

Don’t put the blame on me.
I’m just a businessman.
I’m trying to make a living
the only way I can.

You don’t hate the motherfuckers
that sell you alcohol.
It’s all the same thing
but I’m the one who takes the fall.

My time on this here corner
maybe short, but it ain’t sweet.
I got the cops all on my ass
 until I’m just a piece of meat.

I must represent my gang
so don’t cross onto my turf.
Respect the line that’s drawn.
I’m just another serf.

The white man says to me,
“nigga, keep your nose clean!”
as he steals my crack and money
and kicks me in my spleen.

I ain’t got a fancy office
like the thugs on Wall Street.
But I got to live somehow.
Everybody needs to eat.

So, I shot a motherfucker.
And a child got in the way.
I didn’t set this shit in motion.
You know who called the play.

I’m on the evening news
I took a bullet to the head.
I’m just a motherfucker
lying in the morgue, dead.

The shit won’t stop with me.
That just ain’t how it works.
They gone keep those drugs coming
because of all the perks.

How you think I got the drugs?
Did you ever wonder why
I can get a gun and drugs
and make your ass so high?

I was low on the totem pole
and I always knew the score.
Get your head from out your ass.
You know why I was poor!

I was born to be a loser;
to end up dead or in the pen.
You know the goddamn truth.
I was never meant to win.

Blame me for the corruption
that comes down from the top.
You know who calls the shots
and who protects a dirty cop.

But it’s convenient to blame me
for the violence in the hood.
And ignore the burning cross
or the Aryan Brotherhood.

You can turn and look away
from what it’s all about
because in your little white bread world,
you’ll get yours without a doubt.

There ain’t no hungry bellies,
nor are there crack hos on the prowl.
You’ve got the sweetest little setup
while the rest of us live foul.

You sit nicely in the pew
on a fine Sunday morning.
You smile and pay your tithes.
You’ve got no reason to be mourning.

Your brother, he ain’t dead
from a drive by in the night.
You don’t live that kind of life
because your ass is white!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

And don’t even bother pardoning my language or my grammatical errors. I keep it real! Deal with it! We have to!

Cars And Boats And Gold Don’t Matter!

car boat gold

When I’m gone, I’ll miss the sunrise
that can’t warm the coldest grave.
When I’m gone, I’ll miss the ocean.
I’ll not ride another wave.

When I’m gone, I’ll miss the flowers
that I never smelled anyway.
I just took them all for granted
and now, they bloom while I decay.

When I’m gone, I’ll miss the love
that I never did return.
I was too busy earning money
and your love, yes I did spurn.

When I’m gone, who will miss me?
Will my boss for whom I’ve worked?
And will my children come to see me
after they’ve covered me up with dirt?

Before I am gone, I must realize
what is important and what is not.
It’s time to love and smell the flowers
before they lower me in my plot.

Never think that there’s tomorrow.
for it may never come.
Cars and boats and gold don’t matter
when for you, death beats the drum.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

Every now and then, I try and take time out from posting about all of the horrors that we are besieged with every day; whether it be from genocide, wars, poverty, inhumanity, racism, hate, materialism and I could go on and on. Think of all the people that set out yesterday, heading to their jobs or to school or wherever and think of all the people that you see, staring down at a phone while walking into you or into a pole. Think of the people that lust and never love. Think of all the people that are busily attempting to amass a fortune and yet, have no idea what it is like to sit down and simply breathe and know what it is to love and to be loved. Think of all those people that have dropped dead and they really had no idea what was really important.

There is nothing so important on the screen of a phone because if it is, why just a few decades ago, were we having no problem in not having a phone everywhere we go? Now, it is unthinkable to even walk around the house without knowing where the smartphone is. It is unthinkable for many to stand outside for a few moments and look up at the sky if you don’t live near a park. It is unthinkable for many to remember that there is more to life than expensive cars, boats, big houses and bulging pockets. When we lost sight of this, we lost a lot. And I for one, don’t think we will ever get that back. More’s the pity. But I post this anyway. Maybe, someone can recall a time before smartphones with apps told us how to live, what to eat, where to shop and who to ‘like’.

I’ve Been Down The Darkest Road!

darkest road

A land more kind than home,
I exchange for a cold nowhere.
There is danger at the border.
And I haven’t got a prayer.

I sense thunder in the distance,
to the cliff, I must draw near.
My back is to the edge;
eyes wide in watchful fear.

The final truth, I seek,
taking secrets to the grave.
The priest must stand alone.
My confession, to him, I gave.

The gods of guilt are here
from the City of Countless Lies.
My tortured soul seeks shelter.
Death takes me by surprise.

A cry, I hear so close
from my lips of icy dread.
I am lost to all of earth
and must walk among the dead.

On cursed ground, I stand.
No proof of life, I see.
The innocent all lie sleeping.
I have met my enemy.

Oh mirror to my soul,
I request respite tonight.
I’ve been down the darkest road.
Pray, lead me towards the light.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

A Hovering Mist

hovering mist

Lessons learned of evil
in an old forgotten room,
the darkness is so brutal;
 an atmospheric gloom.

In the air, a melody lingers
of solitude pronounced.
Music set to score,
though no musician was announced.

The dead took center stage
as the curtain went up in smoke.
The door to the chamber opened
and inside, what dared to poke?

A hovering mist, solidified
as a stench did fill the air.
Black magic entered soundlessly
and the dead did turn and stare.

A feast fit for the ghouls
was served to all that came.
The lavish spread of souls
was soon to be set aflame.

Above the haunting melody,
their piercing shrieks were heard.
Tis too late for men to beg
 when their bodies are interred.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2015 Shelby I. Courtland