بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Beloved Members of the Asiatic Tribe of Shabazz!

How are you all? I’m okay. Just riding the waves of life although I feel like a ship without a rudder, lost at sea, just floating amongst the flotsam and jetsam with no direction.

I guess I can’t really say no direction. I never lose my direction. I just don’t have a, OKAY, I don’t have direction. I guess, honestly, I just don’t KNOW my direction.

Allah is my GUIDE. And I know my ultimate destination is Zawji, but I just don’t know when I’m going to arrive or exactly how I’m going to get there.

I just submit to Allah and go wherever He Tells Me to go.

Last night I went to an event at CAAM. And as much as I love it, I don’t like it.

I already told you about the time I went and there were no Black employees up from slavery (what most people call African-Americans).

Then I was going to go to a talk there and the lecturer was a devil.

THEN Ibnana and I were going to take the Lindy-Hop dance class and they were filming. And Muslims are not supposed to let devils or Christians photograph us.

So, believe me when I tell you I had my reservations.

Nevertheless, I went.

The event was titled “Remembering ’92” and it was slated to be a recollection of the Rodney King beating and the aftermath.

So, that was a lit time with emotions exploding all over the city and I was hoping to go and recall the whole thing with other people who experienced it like I had.

I’m a big history buff and a budding anthropologist, so I was looking forward to hearing other people’s recollections of the whole time.

I should have known.

When I pulled up, there was a young, nicely dressed Brother standing right by where I always park Lulu, but his demeanor was not receptive, to put it nicely.

So, my teacher taught me well.

I ignored him.

Then another Brother, similarly but not quite as formally dressed, approached him and they embraced.

Now, they both had on slim-fitted pants, but now I kind of look at it like how The Temps and other men dressed in the sixties. Their suit pants were slim-fitted tailored, so I didn’t automatically take that as a sign of him being gay.

And just because they embraced doesn’t automatically mean they were gay either.

I mean EVERYBODY hugs nowadays.

But Brothers, just to be on the safeside (and Our Beloved Messenger, The Honourable Elijah Muhammad (May the peace and the blessings of Allah forever be upon him) Taught us that anything other than a handshake between men is disgraceful, so don’t embrace – do like genteel men and shake hands.

So, as I was locking Lulu up, I noticed that nearly everybody that went inside was a devil. I got a good look at the audience during the discussion and it looked like rainbow sprinkles.

The Black Lives Matter guest was probably proud.

Instead of it being a “Remembering ’92” fest. It was a Black Lives Matter, everybody love everybody, how can we all live together in peace, let’s-make-mockery-of-everything-Allah-stands-for rally.

I’m not even, okay, I guess I will.

Black Lives Matter is stupid.

We know Black lives matter.

Devils know Black lives matter.

They just don’t care and you telling them is not going to make a difference.

They are still going to kill you every chance they get.

So, when they opened up the discussion for “questions” I made sure I was the first one to raise my hand. I have learned that if you don’t get in early, they may never get to you.

So, I knew I was going to comment and took a seat in the front row. And sensing they were about to open it up for questions, I shot my arm up so they couldn’t act like they didn’t see me.

But I knew the curator for the event DID NOT WANT TO ACKNOWLEDGE ME! He is one of those Brothers with political aspirations. At least that’s how he came off. He sat up there on the stage with his legs crossed so high up and so tight with his hips turned toward the side so much that he would have given a devil in a mini skirt a run for her money – SO GAY!!! He made it a point before giving me the floor to reiterate that he was only accepting QUESTIONS – NOT STATEMENTS!!!

So, I had that in the back of my mind when I opened.

“As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum, In remembering the ’92 rebellion, it was basically a repeat of the ’65 rebellion. Was anybody there? (I looked over the faces and nobody raised their hand but I already knew that.) The fact is, we can march, we can join every organization, but we are NEVER going to be able to stop them from killing us because killing us is what they were made to do. They can’t help it. The only way we can stop them from killing us is to get away from them. Separation is our Salvation.”

Somewhere in the middle of my soliloquy, I decided, to hell with his “question” requirement. I also knew, by the way they were just blankly nodding and smiling at me, that my statement wasn’t going to hit them fully until this morning, so I gathered my belongings and broke.

I was insulted that they had turned our rebellion into a Kumbaya campfire.

The only other person there who was actually AT the shit was this Brother who was on the cover of Newsweek and like the poster boy for the whole thing. They probably PAID him to be there.

Through the whole exhibit there was a recording playing in the background of an old DEVIL singing the BLM theme song. It was nauseating!

I found out the BLM was started by ARTISTS! From L.A.’s own St. Elmo’s Village.

They are using the struggle for Black Liberation (whatever that is )to advance their careers.

Some other highlights of the evening:

• A devil man with two Black boys ended up sitting right next to me. I had moved his place holders and took one of their seats. So then he comes explaining to me that he might have to keep getting up to attend to the younger of the boys who was about four. The elder was nine or ten. So, you know I didn’t move. He sat right next to me with the four-year-old on his lap. So, I look at his hand on the little boy’s bare thigh and asked him what was he doing with two little Black boys. Of course he couldn’t believe I had the temerity to ask such a thing in this day and age of tolerance and said just as much. He asked me what business was it of mine? I said, “I’m Black.”
• Later I told the older one to read Message To The Blackman and asked him if the little boy was his Brother. He nodded his head yes. I smiled and said gently, “But that’s not your father.” The poor boy looked so confused. He nodded his head, “Yes.” I said, “No, your father is Black like you.” Then the devil got all up in my face. “What did you say to my son?” I got right back up in his face and said, “That’s not your son.” Then he started getting all in his emotions and I just walked away.
• I should have added that HE was that little BLACK boy’s SON! You wanna get technical, motherfucker!
• I saw this fine Brother with a devil and he grinned a superfine smile at me and I don’t know what he expected me to say or do, but I said, “There’s a Black girl out there waiting for you.” He looked shocked and appalled but after he came back to his senses, he just said, “Well, isn’t that racist.” I shrugged and said, “It’s true though.”
• The best part of the night was the video they had of Reginald Denny. He was the devil who got caught at the wrong place at the wrong time and I had such an exquisite time remembering how the Brothers were throwing rocks and such at all the cars going by driven by devils or ANYBODY who wasn’t Black. 😀 😀 😀 That was some Black Unity for yo ass!!! For me, THAT was remembering ’92!!! CHEAH!

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• So, I was reading “the most popular book by Sigmund Freud” but I realized he was gay. First, I realized he was an atheist which I thought was rather amusing because he blamed everything wrong with humanity on Christianity. I couldn’t disagree with that. I also found it interesting the way he distanced himself from humanity and addressed common issues with such impartiality. But he went too far when he was talking about love and said that “a person’s only acceptable love object is limited to members of the opposite sex.” Who (or what ) else is supposed to be your “love object???” I threw that shit away.
• I decided after last night’s incident with the fine brother with the devil, that I no longer just “plant seeds,” I DROP BOMBS!!! 😀
• I forgot about one place The Homeless Society has also been – THE LIBRARY.
• Another proof the white woman is the ROOT of all evil. Let’s look up the definition of ROOT –
  root¹
  ro͞ot/

  noun

  noun: root; plural noun: roots

  1. 1.

     the part of a plant that attaches it to the ground or to a support, typically underground, conveying water and nourishment to the rest of the plant via numerous branches and fibers.

     “cacti have deep and spreading roots”

     synonyms:

     rootstock, tuber, rootlet; More rhizome, radicle “a plant’s roots”

     • the persistent underground part of a plant, especially when fleshy and enlarged and used as a vegetable, e.g., a turnip or carrot.
     • any plant grown for its edible root.
     • the embedded part of a bodily organ or structure such as a hair, tooth, or nail.

       “her hair was fairer at the roots”
     • the part of a thing attaching it to a greater or more fundamental whole; the end or base.

       “a little lever near the root of the barrel”

  It’s worse than I thought. Eve was not only the first, meaning the root of white girls, but according to this definition, she is the one from whom they gather their strength. If that ain’t evil, I don’t know what is. According to the definition, Eve is the evil “support” for all white devil women that came after her, thus making her the ROOT of EVE-IL.

• Between homosexuality and interracial relationships, it’s a wonder that there are ANY full Black children in America.
• This is a picture I took of a sign from the Watts riots in 1965. It reads, “Turn left or GET SHOT.” LOL

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I was really going to try and not talk about you-know-who.

Yesterday was A.J. Day, as you know. He’s trying to make it A.J. WEEK! LOL He’s so conceited. The song he gave me for Mother’s Day last year was called “Hearsay” but the hook is, “It’s all about me…” 🙂

But I love his dirty drawls.

I tried not to celebrate yesterday but ended up stealing some Lindt and I got a rose from the event – chocolate and flowers. And I’m in Malibu again. I’ll probably come here every day for the rest of the week, so it looks like his ass is gonna get his wish, whether we like it or not. A.J. WEEK, Spoiled bitch. 😛

I never thought boys could be spoiled too. LOL I know I am. Maybe that’s our problem.

I titled this blog “Moonshadows” just because there is a restaurant on PCH with the same name and it seems like a place Zawji would like to take me….

I don’t even know what type of food they serve… Sometimes I wish restaurants would let you eat there, because they are so beautiful, but my diet is so particular, I need to bring my own food or have use of the kitchen.

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Oh yeah! I wanted another book, but Allah Gave me a movie instead. So far so good, but these things have a way of taking a turn. But if I was at the end, I would post it even though I disagree with some parts.

I am loving all the subliminal messages. But I’m not gonna say any more because I don’t wanna give it away. YET.

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