media.
media.
" South Florida has been experiencing a rash of homicides this past Month and we are strongly urging the community to take extreme caution. Officials have not made any arrests by my knowledge, nor do they have a suspect. "…
explain everything to you in a minute.” said Captain Skillman. As they sat there quiet. Deputy Blake held his head down. “Are you okay?” ask Captain Skillman. “Yes I’m fine, I’m just a little tired.” said Deputy Blake. “Well, we won’t be long.” said Captain Skillman. As they sat there, three men walked in, Lieutenant Crimp, Lieutenant Nectar and Sergeant Prim. Captain Skillman stood up and shook their hands. “Now we can start.” said Captain Skillman. Then six special agents walked in. “What’s going on?” ask Deputy Corde. “Gentlemen, these are FBI agents and you five have been pretty busy, we’ve had you all under surveillance and you all have been participating in illegal activities.” said Captain Skillman. “HOLD ON, WHAT IS ALL THIS?” yelled…
I had the opportunity to use a fancy studio in the Lower East Side gratis recently. It happened to occur in a time when I needed to make music more than at pretty much any other point in my life. I am truly blessed with some excellent friends. It was a harrowing time. It is without question the most emotionally honest thing I have ever been involved in making. Here's the first single.…
My division was stationed in Normandy, France, at the time of the Allied invasion on June 6, 1944. Toward the end of August or early September, Canadian troops captured me near Dieppe.10 I was with a small group of men who were cut off from our main company and overrun by motorized Allied units. For several days we wandered around searching for our unit, until one night we strayed into a field camp of Canadian soldiers. You can well imagine the astonishment all around when we suddenly appeared in their midst. The Canadians didn’t have a guard posted. This was probably better for all because otherwise we might have exchanged gunfire. Instead, we peacefully turned over our weapons and in return received cigarettes.…
Silence. Silence is what the audience awarded to Jerry Lee Lewis in London, the first stop on his European tour. While he sat at the piano--banging his bony fingers onto the keys with all of his strength, his hair flying in front of his face, sweat dripping down his face, putting all of his energy into his music until he simply had to kick the bench to the side and stand because sitting did not do the song justice--the audience refused to engage in his exuberance. Noticing this, he withdrew from his euphoria and said, “Y’all don’t have to jus’ stand there all quiet.” So they listened.…
About noon, on the fifth day of their journey, Charity told Uriah to stop the wagon. Looking around, Uriah did not see anything in particular that caught his attention and did not know why she wanted him to stop; as far as he could tell, there was not anything they needed there. And, his mother had not gotten off the wagon to go do her business or said anything about eating lunch. So, after bringing the horses and wagon to a complete halt, he turned to Charity and asked, “Why did you want me to stop?”…
A sharp wail cut through the silence of Woodbridge Mental Hospital. A nurse immediately rushed towards the far end of the hallway, her footsteps echoing off the walls of the hospital. As she approached the door of the patient’s ward, she heard equipment crashing to the floor and shattering. She fished out her cell phone and dialed a number.…
As Fin walked along the street the leaves of the oak trees shone like patches of blue velvet, but when he stopped still nothing shimmered. The waves refused to move. The glow of the city still seeped into the morning sky, forever. He felt he must be dreaming, and yet he was sure he wasn't dreaming because everything felt so real. Surely his brain was not powerful enough to create such a masterful illusion. Or was it? He felt his head imploding just trying to figure it…
The crumbling leaves swayed, as the winter air crashed against his home. Walking towards his farm, William became uncomfortably aware of his surroundings. He grew up in this town, spending his days working and adventuring in every niche of the area. For an eighteen year old, his journey of life was monotonous. He endeavoured to peregrinate and advance his life- but his next journey was one that caused a nauseous, yet prideful feeling in the pit of his stomach.…
How could he just treat us all like we were cattle as if it was nothing? The speedometer crept up to 60 miles per hour. Didn’t he care that people everywhere were starving? How could he do this? When he was elected he promised that he would Make America Great Again. 70 miles per hour. I had to get to the rally. We needed change, we could be that change. 80 miles per hour. My thoughts were interrupted as my eyes caught the reflecting glow of red and blue lights paint the night sky behind me. Crap. I pulled over and turned off the car, ready to feed the officer behind me a great line about how my grandmother was on her death bed and wanted me and only me to be at her side. My eyes shifted and glanced to the side mirror, the officer straightened out his already tucked in uniform and smoothed his hands over his hair as he made his way from his cruiser. Great, I thought. I wonder how many reprimands this stiff is gonna write me up for. My record already had 14 points on it for picketing, 6 more and I’d be in real trouble. He knocked on the window…
Karenga defines art, in terms of Black Art, Music and Literature, as “cultural production informed by standards of creativity and beauty and inspired by and reflective of a people’s life-experiences and life-aspirations”. Put more simply, Black art is an expansive term describing the visual arts of the Black community. Black art also includes the Black aesthetic which can be defined as a distinctive mode of artistic expression and a distinctive standard by which Black art can be identified and judged in terms of its creativity and beauty as well as its social relevance. Karenga claimed that Black art has to have three basic characteristics in order to be considered authentic and appropriate; in which art had to be functional, collective and committing. Black art has to be reflective of our actuality, of our struggle to achieve a higher level of life. Black art must be drawn from our collective history and roots that reflect us all as a group. And finally, Black art must make it an obligation for Black people to achieve liberation and a higher level of life. The Harlem Renaissance produced race and socially conscious artists that indulged in their Africa roots to define a Black motif for their specific works.…
A few years ago, My school took a trip to Washington, D.C. We got to visit many historical monuments that were even more breathtaking in person, but the experience at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial will forever be embedded in my mind.…
Jonathan and Cleopas relax, and in the privacy at their own small table, they continue their quiet conversation.…
Bright, blood red colours saturated the makeshift tent, signalling the arrival of a new year. Red papers rustled in the breeze. Inscribed on them were golden characters each indicating happiness, health and prosperity. Red flowers bloomed in their various places around the tent. Bodies piled in ecstatically, one after another, sniffing, as they entered, the heavenly aroma of the vast array of foods present. Greetings were exchanged. So was money, which remained silent in the red packets they were initially placed in.…
Nuttel left them so abruptly. She tells her aunt “He told me he had a horror of…