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The Black rider Returns. Stay tuned folks....

Rest in peace 'Cap

Rest In Peace, 'Captain

Captain America is dead. What does this mean, and how does this happen? The pop icon for freedom and liberty passed away shot down by a snipers bullet in Captain America number 25. What does this symbolize for our western culture and our morals and values? To answer this question, first a little history.

As a lad growing up in Jamaica, West Indies I was a comic book fanatic. Every Saturday at the supermarket my goal was to hang out by the magazine stand and read all the comics on there. Superman, Spider-man, The Incredible Hulk, X men, Iron man, but I never really got into Captain America. He was extremely idealistic and the only place I came across him was in the Avengers series as he was their leader. He was always strong and wise and sagelike, with his super soldier powers and his Shield.

His story was an engrossing one how he fought Nazi's in WWII and was frozen in Antarctica only to be unearthed decades later to fight evil again in the Post Modern Era.

Thing was I wanted a Captain Jamaica too. But there was no Captain Jamaica or Captain Europe or Captain Africa or Captain Mexico or Captain South America. Captain America was it and that was that. I mean you had Superman and Batman too who were universal in their appeal of mortal men assuming extra ordinary roles. And they killed Superman too. Doomsday. It was huge. And and he returned from the dead too like Jesus did, fighting his way out of hell. I read it. But that was before 9/11, in peacetime. Israel and Pakistan were shaking hands. Clinton was the President of America and he assumed leader of the free world. It was a different time. It was the right time for Superman to die. It was the time of Jurassic Park and The Little Mermaid. We wanted to be terrified. And with all that prosperity and Liberty flowing throughout the West, Captain America was there, leading the avengers in the make believe universe fighting imaginary monsters.

Things are different this time. We need Captain America. The world does. We need a beacon of hope. Spider-man does not do it. He is too smug and not very noble.

In a world of global warming and Hurricane Katrina and an Occupation in Iraq, war in Afghanistan, the threat of nuclear war from North Korea and Iran, and the doomsday clock inching really close to twelve,the world is teetering on collapse.

They've killed superheroes before, Charles Xavier, the leader for the X men died, they cloned Spider man in the comics, dreadful mistake, the Killed the Thor, but they never did kill Captain America. They froze him to bring him back again. This time is different though. He dies. I've read the comics detailing his death and they did it great justice. The art and imagery is captivating, Marvel is on top of its game. My friends, at a time when the world needs Captain America he is murdered to boost sales.

That is sad to me but clearly honest. His death creates an interest, at midtown comics on 40th street and 7th avenue on Wednesday the flock of consumers racking up the Captain America titles were massive. And as it is in the real world so it is int he fantasy of many a fan-boy and fan-girl. The universe is in ambiguity with no strong leadr at a time of turmoil.

Who is our leader? President Bush who was once well liked by the heartland of America has a struggling approval rating and is losing power in his White House as he removes dictators and fights for 'freedom', Clinton who brought us peace and a balanced budget is an old fogey in his 60's (a time when many men are at their political prime) looking at the world turn without his calm steady hand. Joe Di Maggio is long dead so don't look to him. Michael Jordan is retired, Kobe is a dirty player among other things, Lebron James is not capturing the imagination of the world as we imagined, Yao Ming is a headline past, Derek Jeter it seems has lost leadership of America's favorite team to love and hate, and Alex Rodriguez and Barry Bonds are beloved just so we can jeer them, and as it is today, David Beckham has does not translate to America as he does to the world, and at his age it seems as if he will not, robbing him right now of the title of moral world leader. None can step up to be the moral compass of this country and the world.

And now Captain America has fallen prey to Capitalism. The world needs a Captain, right now, it's not Captain America. We killed him. What's Iron Man up to?

THE BLACK RIDER M.I.A.

A nondescript room somewhere in New York, a lone and dusty 60 watt light bulb shines. The Inquisitor walks around the room in a menacing pace perplexed and vexed at the insolence and bravado of his subject. The Black Rider.

The Black Rider sits in a wood chair at a long steel desk looking up at the menacing man known only as The Inquisitor and wonders what question he will ask him. The Inquisitor is dapperly dressed in a white shirt, business tie and khaki pants with brown loafers and dress socks. The Black Rider wears his everyday costume, black pinstriped pants, black Italian cut blazer, white collared shirt, long black camel skin coat topped off with a black pin-striped hat, shiny black patent leather shoes and black silk socks. The Inquisitor walks around the room circling the light bulb looking at The Black Rider angrily staring, growling his mouth as he prepares his first question. The Black Rider sits at the long steel desk nonchalantly waiting for this all to be over.

"Show me your books" The Inquisitor demands. "Show me them now".

"What book?" replies The Black Rider. "You know what I'm talking about" replies The Inquisitor, "The letters you have the entire world going ga ga over. The condemned and illegal prose you have been dealing to the doe eyed masses."

The Black Rider smiles to himself. "You presume too much."

"For days" The Inquisitor goes on "You have had this entire city, the State of New York and people from all over the world reading this filth you call literature. I'm going to put a stop to it Mister Rider. I'm going to put a stop to all of this nonsense, and I'm going to put a stop to you. Until you give me some answers, I'm not letting you out of this room. You won't be able to spew your vile in here my friend. I'm going to find the author of these perverse quote on quote artworks, and if you are indeed the culprit, there will no publishing from these four walls."

"On what charge am I imprisoned for?" The Black Rider asked, "You can't just lock me up for days on end with no charge. Is this the Patriot Act at work? Am I a terrorist or something, last time I checked, New York was still an American State. This Is America is it not?"

"Oh no" replied The Inquisitor in a slow and taunting tone. "This is not America anymore. This is not the liberal filth land known as New York. This...is BLOGVILLE!"

The Triumphant

Driving to work this morning listening to 96.3 FM, The New York Times classical music station, I am feeling very inspired. They are playing an Epic composition but I will not recall the name of the composer, I will remember the title of the piece includes the word 'epic'.

My old 1993 Volvo never feels so triumphant. As the music soars, I turn the volume on maximum, I can feel the air moving through the vehicle. Visions and images start to spur from my mind, a triumphant army marching over tumbling enemies. My spirit feels so motivated, like it is a brand new day, and about half way in my journey I realize I have forgotten my lunch, my two bottles of Poland Spring water and my Cingular cellular phone. Not to be deterred since I scarcely have money or the gas wherewith to leave my job at lunch time and spend more money on a lunch I did not make, since I had spent the early hours of Monday morning preparing my lunch, five turkey sandwiches, one for each day of the week, I decide to turn the car around and collect my lunch as well as my water and cellular phone.

I drive the distance back home, pick up my lunch, and return to my car, my motive is now entirely different. Sure, I now have my most prized accessory, my phone, my lunch and my two bottles of water, but my forgetfulness is docking me fifteen minutes of pay. The music is also entirely different this time. They are now playing a drowsy, maundering composition which title and composer I am not at all interested in learning or knowing of. The music has become too fitting to the moment for my taste. And to top it off, everyone seems to be driving drunk or drunk on madness at eight 'o' clock in the morning.

School buses appear out of thin air all of a sudden and their slow and menacing pace is deliberately aggravating me. The other drivers have forgotten how to drive all together, randomly reversing into intersections and shifting lanes with no regard or concern for anyone else. Delivery trucks stall the traffic and this seems all too serendipitous.

My cars begins to shut off. First at a major intersection as soon as the red light turns green. I turn on my hazards and proceed to try and restart the car for ten seconds. I now become the aggravation. Cars drive around my stalled vehicle with contempt. The ignition kicks in. I drive and the car shuts of again at the next light. And again at another light a quarter of a mile away. I continue to turn my hazards on and cars continue to circle and I continue to aggravate the drunk drivers and those who are drunk on madness. I turn my radio off because no sonic artwork can calm my rampant screams of obscenities and blasphemous use of the name of the Christian Lord.

I make it to work. Safely. I am fifteen minutes late, thank God it's only that due to the many hiccups of my car. And I still have my lunch, cellular phone and two bottles of water. I am triumphant.

Dreams

Keep looking. Keep fighting. Do not die. Do not fall. Keep striving. Keep working. Keep earning. Keep dreaming. An old woman told me life is long. Very long. She should know. I am knowing. With each new day, each hour subtracted, I see my dreams manifest and my nightmares retracted.

I have deciphered it to be true, that death becomes me, so the inverse is true. Life becomes you.

Phenomena

She becomes your existence

A boon for your bane

She becomes your passion

You become beautifully insane

How fast is the slide from man to child

When a man becomes captured by a woman's smile

She becomes your mission

Succeed or fail

She is your passion

The wind in your sail

And for whatever reason should she choose another man

She becomes the test

To which you grade your stand

There is something phenomenal about the guise of a woman

Her skin

Her scent

Her mind

Her soul

There is something phenomenal about the guise of a lady

Her touch

Her love

Her sacrifice

Her whole

1146

Goodnight Blogville. It's a Saturday and a very busy weekend for The Black Rider. So I'm going into my archives for today's post.

In my teens and early twenties (which is like last week, I'm still 25 for another 8 days) I considered myself to be a rebellious and enlightened poet. I wrote hundreds if not thousands of poems and and a few short stories. This is poem # 1146.

Comfort

I've cried enough/

So I have a relationship/

With my tears/

They seldom touch my tongue/

But my eyes always taste them/

My tears taste like/

Rest/

The juice of my stress/

They are very warm/

Like the blood flushed hands/

Of an anxious lover/

On a smiling face/

Faith

You can lose faith in the world, you can lose faith in your friends, you can lose faith in God, you can lose faith in yourself. It is dangerous to lose such a thing as faith, because faith is all we have.

faith: 1. complete trust or confidence. 2. strong belief in a religion. 3. a system of religious belief. origin Latin fides. [Oxford Dictionary of Current English, paperback, 2001]

There you have it. A dictionary definition of faith. And in that definition lies the fault and the faculty of that word.

'Complete trust or confidence' meaning that your dedication to the subject is unbroken, unyielding, a perfect circle, and in there being, an impossibility, and an improbability. An ideal that exist in theory but not in practice.

Have faith that things will work some of the time and not all of the time and you will be adjusted to the workings of this world.

There will be irregularities in everything there is, so that it can fit in this puzzle of life. Any idea that states absolutes as whole and complete truths are not only obnoxious, but ignorant and inconsiderate.

Have faith that things will work some of the time and when they do not, have faith that you will be strong enough to bear the loss and have the reserve within you to recover from it.

Then you will be whole, complete and well adjusted.

On Your Mark, Get Set, Get Money

So I've read "How to win friends and influence people" by Dale Carnegie, and I've read "The 48 laws of Power" by Robert Greene, and I've also read "The Art of Seduction" also from Robert Greene.

Those books work. I have friends, influence over people, power, and if the stars are right I can be very seductive. But I do not have money. I did my budget forecast for the next 2 weeks and I'm banking a whopping total of 30 dollars and 5o cents. After my Internet bills and my gas and credit card and cell phone payments and the rent and what not, I have 30 dollars and 50 cents.

Now what good is having friends if you cannot adequately entertain them or influence over people if you cannot embellish it with a little gratitude or Power if you cannot dress the part or even seductive qualities if you can't indulge in luxuries.

My friends, money is necessary. I need to read a book about money. That's the skill I lack right now. Once I learn how to create that, my circle will be complete. I need to get to the point where after I work out my budget, my bank will be something I can be flexible and productive with.

$30.50 is hardly that.

Monsters and Transgression

I am a monster. A sadistic melancholy manic. It seems to me that this should be tragic, but it could also be beneficial.

I can be a monster in bed. A monster at winning. I would rather have a monster guard my house than a poodle.

Life is tragic and filled with failures. If one is handed lemons one is to make lemonade, if one is handed tragedy one is to write stories and songs. If one is dealt and or creates monstrosities, one is to become a monster.

The world is not built for the week and or feeble. You must be swift, merciless, decisive in all that you do. Then you will have success and annihilate puny fools who stand in your way to greatness and obliterate foes who dare to stand against you.

In my book, it is better to be great and revered, for whatever cause, than to be forgotten and a loser.