They Said Believe Us Or Not Trust Is Something You Earn...

with every mistake you make back to us you return

Trust is something never to be given. One must earn trust in the same way one earns a promotion—through hard work over time. I always regard warily those who are too trusting, too fast. Not because I believe them to be naive, though these people exist, but because those who seem overly willing to trust you are overly anxious to gain yours.

In business, trust is meaningless. One can only trust that your colleagues will act in their own self interests. This is not a bad thing, and in fact is the foundation of capitalism. Modern contract law exists, purely because of this underlying fact. The theory being that while I can’t trust you, I can trust our agreement and, more importantly, the willingness of the courts to enforce it.

Over time, people will show themselves to be either trustworthy or untrustworthy. And even the untrustworthy can generally be trusted to be untrustworthy. Which, when identified, can be an asset. Just think of your blabbermouth friend, and how useful their blabbering can be when ‘floating an idea’ to gauge a reaction while maintaining plausible deniability.

But, what of loyalty? Loyalty, dear friends is something altogether different. While used interchangeably, they are not synonyms – if only because one’s loyalty may be driven out of fear, or love, or responsibility. Trust on the other hand, and a person’s trustworthiness, is inherent. It goes with character, and flows from character. Forget the rappers and NBA stars who cry of their posse’s loyalty—they have no understanding of the word.

So, can we be loyal to those we do not trust? Yes. Can we trust those who are not loyal? Yes—as long as we trust them to be disloyal.

But, in business, the twin questions of “who do you trust” and “how do you engender loyalty” will scream volumes about who you are. Remember, the streets is watching.

Attract money my worst color is light green...

My favorite hue is Jay-Z blue...

True story.
I will blog over the break. Just not now. For now, peep the irony. (I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried, lol).

Your Blog Should Be Red

Your blog is full of intensity and passion. You are very opinionated - and people love or hate you for it. You have the potential to be both a famous and infamous blogger.

What Color Should Your Blog or Journal Be?

I’m a Man of Principle, Damn Near Invincible...

In my own mind, now that my soul’s aligned. Didn’t know before now my role’s defined; to take hold and control of what’s mine. (You know the rest. If not, look it up.)

It’s ya boy! Alright, today’s hustle lesson is ‘know and respect your limits.’ See, as I often repeat, life ain’t a game no more, it’s a sport –a full contact sport. My Dad would always tell me, “Some people are the ball and get kicked around, while others are the players. Which one are you, son?”

Here’s the background—you go to school with someone, grind it out, land your first job and start to building. Things are gravy, then your buddy takes an “L”, a big “L”. So okay, you let him move in, and stay on your couch. You are trying to be there, to look out, and help your boy get back on his feet. Then you notice, this motherfucker ain’t done shit to move out. No apartment guides, no flyers, not even a fucking Sunday paper, so at least he can fake like he’s looking. So you tell him, he has until – I dunno, let’s say the 15th – so he has till the 15th, and it’s the 3rd.

So the 15th rolls around and he’s still there. He asks if he can move during the weekend. So you think, “the 15th, the 17th; what’s the difference? Sure.” Now we all know where this story is going, on the 17th he still ain’t got no where to go. He tells you, “I’ll have to live in my car.” Question, do you:

(a) Say okay, and give him an extension;
(b) Bitch at him relentlessly, but let him stay;
(c) Tell him, “That’s your problem, leave my key on the table.”

I’m sure you can guess what my answer is. That’s right. He gotta go. Why? Because, I know my limit. The problem many people have is that they don’t respect their limit, and find that as a result others don’t respect their limits by extension.

Many of us live our lives with very fluid limits. The problem becomes, that when others can’t tell what your limits are, often they will attempt to push you to them. Set your limits; be it in business, life or relationships. If you stand strong by them, wherever they may be, people will respect you for you. That, my friends (and foes – I peep y’all watching) will showcase your character.

Now then, I want to address something that is becoming appallingly obvious. I pissed some folks off. It is nothing new to me, and as a man of character, I stand by my points. However, if I hurt your feelings, if you have found me to be a ‘bad’ person, I ask you, “why?” Who am I, in the ultimate scheme of things, that your feelings should be ‘hurt’ by anything I have ever written? I owe you nothing, and you owe me nothing. If you have heard my words before (quite possible, as I am not the originator of most of my ideas—I just add some ‘four letter words’ for flavor), then perhaps you have unresolved issues with someone else whose words I’ve parroted. Not my fault. They know you, I don’t. This thing, this ‘blog’ thing, has the ability to allow the exchange of ideas, thoughts and opinions over great distances. You can even enjoy the conversation of people with whom you don’t always agree (preferable company to my mind – the other way is boring after too long), but to ‘beef’?

I am going to say this now, I am not above a ‘blog’ beef. But, think about what you do, and moreover why you are doing it. It is more important to me to spread the message of my thoughts and opinions, not get bogged down in childish things, particularly when we both have other things to do. So I offer no apologies, no ‘I can change’, but this promise – you’ll always get what I think on an issue, and what I have learned from life along the way. It’ll always be honest, and always be straight. That’s the deal. I hope you enjoy the journey, but I am far too self centered to care either way. Take it or leave it. I am not addressing this again.

I found myself reminiscin', remember this one?

When he was here he was crazy nice with his, son. I miss him...


Fox has cancelled Arrested Development! The horror. The horror...

Please forgive me as I mourn.

And [Forget] that weed, it keeps you broke...

invest in pounds of herbs and profit if niggaz wanna smoke dope.

Inspiration. When I first heard the lyrics above, it changed my whole outlook on my life. On its face, it seems that the artist (and the single greatest EMCEE to ever draw breath) is exhorting his listeners to sell drugs. However, as rappers are quick to point out, it isn’t the words it’s the message that counts.

Forget smoking dope--engage in commerce. Pure profundity. I took this advice literally, forgot childish pursuits and got serious about my life and my direction.

Few years later, I found myself at a crossroads. I did very poorly on an exam, during school, and was ready to quit. Then someone said...

Hov' don't run, Hov' stand and fight
Hov's a soldier, Hov' been fightin all his life so
What could you do to me? It's not new to me
[fail] me; fuck you - what's a couple dollars to me?
But you will respect me, simple as that
Or I got no problem goin back
I'm representin for the seat where Rosa Parks sat
Where Malcolm X was shot, where Martin Luther was popped...

So, okay, I knew I couldn’t quit. There was too much riding on my success. But how was I going to get through the rest of my education?

You are now lookin at one smart black boy
Momma ain't raised no fool
Put me anywhere on God's green earth, I'll triple my worth
Motherfucker - I, will, not, lose

I sell ice in the winter, I sell fire in hell
I am a hustler baby, I'll sell water to a well
I was born to get cake, move on and switch states
Cop the Coupe with the roof gone and switch plates
Was born to dictate, never follow orders...

Okay, I graduate and land a gig. Thanks Hov. But, the days are long. Is success worth the sacrifices that I have to make?

Whoever said [legal] was the easy way out couldn't understand the mechanics
And the workings of the [business]world, granted
Nine to five is how to survive, I ain't trying to survive
I'm trying to live it to the limit and love it a lot

Right. One last thing, hope you can help me out on this one. See, because I have allowed my thirst for success to put the blinders on, I have ignored someone very special to me, any advice?

Listen here summer baby, I just believe it's the right thing to do
I got a brand new bitch, corporate America
She showing me a lot of action right now
And I know you put me on my feet and all, but
I mean, it's time for me to grow, You gotta let me go baby, you gotta let me go.

My point is inspiration. Perhaps calling these lyrics inspiration is a misnomer. It is more like they reinforced the fire that was already in my belly. I know that on one else can give me that which I already possess. And that Mom and Dad sent me similar messages throughout my life: “Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die,” and “Of whom much is given, much is expected”, but it was and is nice to find reinforcement and motivation in music and art.

After all, Sonny “been focused since I said ‘Hi’ to 30.” So I ask you all, where do you draw motivation? What keeps you moving long after you wanted to quit?

Too Many [women] Wanna B Ladies, So If You A Hoe...

I'ma call you a hoe, too many bitches are shady
Too many ladies give these niggaz too many chances
Too many brothers wannabe lovers don't know what romance is
Too many bitches stuck up from too many sexual advances
No question; Jay-Z got too many answers

Alright. Perhaps I am a bit judgmental. So what? I ain’t got to love everybody. I do have to know how to relate to everybody, but I ain’t got to love all y’all-- beyond what Jesus said I should ( and I am an Episcopalian, so that means I ain’t got to be AS loving as some of y’all do) –and I don’t have to respect everything everybody do. (Nor must I respect everything that everyone else chooses to engage in. Just reminding all 3 of my faithful and patient readers that my years of education didn’t fall upon deaf ‘fingers’.) All I have to do is respect another motherfucker's house. So, Kajuana, out of repect to your house, this is what I think in my words.

Some shit in the black community (and white, I don’t discriminate) is fucked up. Y’all done lost ya minds with some of the shit that we actually discuss. Not the discussion. That’s academic, and appreciated. But some folk are defending the indefensible.

Let me clarify, once and for all. Babies born out of wed-lock is fucked up. Period. No debate. How you gonna holler, “well, I had a Moms and Pops, and both them motherfuckers was fucked up, so a baby don’t need both parents...”? What? Get the fuck outta here with that bullshit. In fact, fuck that and fuck you. Where the fuck does the leap that because your particular parents was fucked up, and some lil’ spoiled fuckers in Columbine that had a Mom and Dad went and shot up the school, Moms and Pops together in the home are unnecessary? You ain’t thinking clear. Stop that silliness. I’m sure lil’ Typhani in the ghetto is really looking for the date when Pookie don’t pull out, so’s she can sing Fantasia’s song, too. And that bitch is illiterate, so her stupid ass has an excuse. What’s yours?

And let’s really put the blame where it belongs, shall we? (As an aside, don’t even consider intimating that perhaps I shouldn’t have an opinion because I have a male appendage. I will put you on blast. This my house, bitch. Come correct or keep that shit to yourself.) I’m gonna do this in bold print so none of y’all miss the point. EVERY.SINGLE.BASTARD.CHILD.BORN.IN.AMERICA.WAS.BORN (but for rape/incest/other molestation) BECAUSE.THE.MOTHER.CHOSE.TO.HAVE.THE.CHILD.
You clear on that? It is a logical truism, that --in the 21st Century --is so rarely ever incorrect as to make it a nullity. Can you pull the exception out for argument’s purposes? Sure can. Stupid motherfucker, we ain’t talking about exceptions. We’re talking about what you envisioned for your child before you had any. If your ass didn’t envision Mom and Dad and a happy household, then you were sick and needn’t reproduce. Unfortunately, the odds suggest that you now have 5 children of varying ages, and one day I’ll have to lock my doors in my hood because of lil’ Hashid Lavonne, but I digress.

Why is it so true that the mother bears the additional responsibility? Because in America in the 21st Century, she can abort it. Not that I am for or against abortion. I would never impede a woman’s right to choose. But, as they say in Spiderman (I’m a geek, so what?) “with great power comes great responsibility.” You have the right to suck that thing right on out, so you have the responsibility for bearing the scars of a bad decision. I’ve said it before, but y’all fuckers forget...heavy is the head that wears the crown. See, Dad has no say either way. A dirty trick if you ask me, and probably the result of some anti-feminists with a hidden agenda, but such is life. The dad can’t tell you not to have it, nor can he tell you to have it. Shit, in most states even your parents can’t stop you (and I am cool with that.)

I guess the point of this ebonically-tinged post is to say one of my three pillars to success (the other two being commerce and education) is FAMILY. Ask any one of my “ex’s” who are all perfectly happy not to have borne my seed into the world, because those women’ll be the first to tell you that my stubborn, judgmental, determined, persistant ass would never leave. Not until my seed was grown. The whole damn point of this grind is family. As long as we, (white,black, green, or blue,) as a people continue to look at a loving complete family unit as an oddity, then we will be right where we are today.

That’s it. I’m spent.

Fuckers.

We All Fish, Better Teach Your Folk;

Give him money to eat, then next week he's broke
Cause when you sleep, he's reaching for your throat...

Figured I’d ruminate on something that will set the tone for this blog, and my life, for a while. In my youth, I was somewhat of a revolutionary. Think ‘Huey’ from ‘Boondocks’, curly bush and all. As I have aged, my understanding of economics, sociology, and political theory has expanded (due in no small part to my “East Coast Tour” of every school I could attend while pursuing the elusive B.S.; and certain nameless parties who have helped broaden my experiences) and my views have changed. In short, I have grown.

What I have come to realize is that the success of our people as a group requires, in every respect, the pursuit of individual success. Things like generational wealth, social parity, economic parity and political parity are things that a society does not give—a people must take or earn. When a society grants you these things, you assure yourselves a second class citizenship. Now I know I sound like one of those Affirmative Action haters, when in truth, I am not. But their major argument, that underqualified candidates fill slots due to set asides, is not without merit and should be considered.

When we are given a subsidy, as here, we have to use that subsidy to the best of our abilities. This means that if you get that ‘black’ slot at Harvard, you serve as a representation of ‘us.’ You are our voice and you have to make the most of it, and bring the fruits of that subsidy back to us, the people that you serve. This does not mean moving back in to the ghetto, however, because you must also blaze trails and make inwards in other areas. Here is where the ‘individual success’ portion comes into play. You must strive for the highest heights attainable, while all the while sharing with and reminding others how you have achieved. And yes, it can be lonely, but heavy is the head that wears the crown. Think about it.

You must also make tough decisions and sacrifices. Heavy-crown, you get the point. In short, we are America’s last immigrant. The one’s who have yet to grasp that the rules of the game are simple, education-commerce-family, you succeed in these areas, and you will serve as a guidepost for the other ‘runaway slaves’ who seek that ‘Promised Land.’

Booker T. Washington has been much maligned for his espousal of the same principles that I note here. He laid a foundation, and built a school dedicated to giving his people, our people, a skill or craft. He told President Woodrow Wilson that he was trying to make the black man useful, to integrate him into society. But what he was trying to tell us is that he was trying to make us necessary; to integrate us into the economy—then we could have our say.

Ignorant and inexperienced, it is not strange that in the first years of our new life we began at the top instead of the bottom, that a seat in Congress or the state legislature was more sought than real estate or industrial skill, that the political convention of some teaching had more attraction than starting a dairy farm or a stockyard.

Booker T. Washington, “Cast Down Your Bucket Where You Are” 1895.



So I guess this serves as both my post for the day, and my Manifesto, my mission statement. “I Am, Therefore I Hustle.” Hustle with me.