Cosmic Slop- How a Mother Loves Her Children

You can’t tell from this video but this song details a serious message about a mother catching hell raising 5 children on her own. She becomes a prostitute to make ends meet for her children and constantly wrestles with the decision. She is calling on the Lord on a daily basis but the devil consistently shows up asking her to dance the “cosmic slop.” The cosmic slop refers to how the mother is re-imagining prostitution as a means rather than a sin. George Clinton and Bernie Worrell combining of the cosmic and slop avails itself to unending ethics of speed, space and morality

Peep the second verse and chorus:
She was well known through the ghetto
Tricks would come and then they’d go
The neighbors would talk and call her Jezebel
But always with a smile, she was sure to try to hide
The fact from us that she was catching hell, hey!
Hear my mother call
I can hear my mother call
Late at night I hear her call
Oh lord, lord I hear her call
She says, “Father, father it’s for the kids
Any and every thing I did
Please, please don’t judge me too strong
Lord knows I meant no wrong
Then the devil sang
“Would you like to dance with me? We’re doin’ the cosmic slop”


Just Thinking…

4 Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests 15 and said, “What will you give me if I betray him to you?” They paid him thirty pieces of silver. 16 And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him. (Matthew 26:14-16 NRSV)
Roland Martin made and interesting comment, “Whoever is funding your freedom fighters is who those freedom fighters respond too.” As much as I would like to find a particular space of disagreement it is hard to disagree with that statement. The god of Capitalism proselytizes all. But, the call to justice is an armament of love centered upon producing equality and freedom. Even those that walked with the Messiah had a momentary lapse, and bowed to the god of Capitalism. But, the revolutionary and gangsta way that Jesus handled betrayal was to eat a meal.
This is my body…


What Does It Mean

We are presently entrenched in a social crucible,

where two simple statements have marked identities: Black Lives Matter (BLM) vs. Make America Great Again (MAGA).

This complicated struggle—

of finding meaning in the midst of death, is becoming overwhelming.

We’re all searching for the perpetual solution to the unimagined question:

What does it mean to be Black in a white, racist society when death is loitering from Covid-19, police, or just everyday life itself?

The success of waking and showering is the goal.

The success of waking is the goal.

Just having a goal is success.

Each journey outside becomes an anxiety laden spy mission

Be safe, wear your mask

I don’t know…I just put my headphones in and listen to Coltrane.

A Love Supreme

Vulnerability During the Pandemic

The older I get the more I realize that vulnerability becomes a necessary part of the arsenal for survival. This pandemic has revealed to many that they are only moments away from life being altered in unimaginable fashions. Therefore, summoning up the courage to go the store for groceries is a herculean task but life threatening to say the least. As one of my colleagues and a friend shared with me during a phone call 3 weeks ago, “Foulks, if I get this virus, I don’t think I will make it.” Those words have echoed in my mind, heart and spirit since that day. And friends, I feel the same way. Knowing my vulnerabilities has given me a freedom. Everyday is a ….

The Frostbitten Rumination

The way that I experienced the cold this morning was unbelievable; I may have been on the pre-stages of hyperthermia as my hands were on fire. As I was removing three days of snow off my wife’s car, in a temperature with a -15 wind chill, I wondered how could a country allow homelessness in such frigid conditions. My 10 minutes in these conditions were just meager, as I was geared up from head to toe, but, I ponder on how do those without such gear survive in such conditions. And, the sad truth, is that we believe we are heroes and saints because we over blankets and warm meals when in actuality they should have had them in the first place.
Thus, the need for philanthropy becomes the quest of the day. Philanthropy is an unjust metaphor for the wealthy to find news to overt paying taxes, that in turn produce means for those in need of blankets.
We live in a broken system where wealth is measured on the backs of the broken. Evidently, there will be a price to pay for exploited the broken and the broken will seize the moment to rebel against the broken system.
By the time I came out of my rumination and pondering, I was convinced that the fires of hell are actually frostbitten events to the body.