THE OBSERVATION BOOTH
OP-ED BY ANDREA DIALECT
OFF TOPIC!
We are surrounded by so much testosterone and estrogen that if we wanted, we can sustain the world’s population for many years to come. But I feel so unprotected in this world despite all those folks. Seemingly my only protection (excluding God of course) is a couple in their seventies pretty late who live miles away. What a crying shame!
WRAP YOUR HEAD AROUND DEATH AND LIVE!
Not the church, nor the government, not the community, our scholars with all those so-called smarts, or our leaders with their faulty internal navigation systems. Not the homies with the big guns, nor my friends, and sadly not my family. But then who? This is about the survival of humanity.
We are under attack and as always, the war between good and evil is real. Thus, our closets must be prayer closets. All those killer clothes merely glorified hankies and those hot shoes are to be props simply used to keep our heads up when ya hangin’ low. It is our responsibility to cover our world, our community, and to cover our cover. Numerous of our committed supporters have died off and, in this race, hardly anyone has accepted or picked up the baton. Many have abandoned posts or never showed up for the job.
We need real warriors standing at the gates protecting us spiritually, mentally, and emotionally; not only for me and mine but for everyone. Prayer warriors are those movers and shakers out there on the front lines and humanity as it should considering our plight, is always recruiting.
INSURANCE POLICY
As looking at the photo that my sister Pam posted during our group chat of our parents on July 9th, their 58th Wedding Anniversary – which was also my Uncle Oscar’s birthday. (R.I.P Uncle Oscar), my heart was filled with joy. #1 Because those two fine human specimens were my parents and good ones at that. #2 Because it was their 58th Anniversary and they were still going strong. #3 Because my sisters Tamie, Pam, and Veronica often stood in the gap for me and us when I or the rest of us couldn’t or can’t be there, which in my case is more times often than most.
When I went to the Carolinas to visit my parents and family some months ago the moment I stepped across that threshold as always. I was allowed to transform back into that innocent wide-eyed little girl once again when I am at my parent’s house despite their now being in their seventies and pretty late.
I always feel totally protected in their presence. The same way I did when behind those doors of our home or when watching my father as he’d descend that sidewalk walking around to the driver’s side of that car when we were heading out as a family; when he was home or even when he stepped out for the moment, as working and all. The moment he stepped out of that car or that house and like ducklings we trailed behind. He was our guardian angel of the highest rankings; anything that went down or anyone who dare step up with those shenanigans was likely to get got.
Mr. Brown was and is a God-fearing man, one of class. But you’d catch those hands logically as a last resort but with the quickness. (You must read the short that I wrote for him called “Thug Deacon”) it can be found in my book entitled “Quiet” which is for purchase. Google the title and my name Andrea Brown then follow the breadcrumbs. My mom on the other hand, we will get into the character of that woman soon enough, goes without saying. But, let’s just say that the two together were a force to be reckoned with.
When I think about my growing up in Paterson during the seventies (there’s that number again) it was the same guarantee of protection when I walked around as a snotty-nosed youngster right into my adulthood. In our community, I felt protected and we were. I’m not even going to talk about our extended family on my father’s side, those Browns and/or those who were not. Yet when it came down to it, it was about the principle of the matter. Therefore, if someone needed help you ain’t gotta or hafta know em and ain’t no harm come to you by ya own kin. You heard as y’all say out there, young heads of our present state.
My uncles and aunts and cousins, etc. Most, if need be, would be up for the job now and then as always. Then there was the church. Now they were the big dogs, and they were about them streets. Let’s just say that these new houses of Lord that I’m still bucking my eyes at for the most part ain’t got nothing on them. They stood in the gap back then and they did their jobs for the community at large. Hitting those streets as opposed to warming those pews and because of their commitment, faith, and works, they were most powerful and prevailing!
ENOUGH FRIENDLY FIRE HOMIE …
The crap that’s going on today in our communities is mind-boggling. Despite all those homies that going to do this and that when ya roll up in their so-called hood. All kinda crap rollin up but where y’all at? Like corruption, abuse, murder, fear-mongering, fake news, fake people, population control, cry babies, loafers, and one world who orders; need I go on? When it comes to protecting those streets, the women, children, and the elders as should. (Pay yo dues)
Seemingly there are less gangstas who can really throw a verse when they’re opting for friendly fires. Making those hoods a hot ghetto mess as pouring bleach onto the fibers of our blanketed good. Most are found to be nothing more than rebels without causes. Yet, there are rules to this thang called life. You’ll be pouring liquor from now to doomsday because there is a price and it’s costly. Such a loss is shameful no matter how you look at it. With all, that’s already going on in the world and you’re being a problem, is a problem and if you gonna be bout it, bout anything. You need be about this life. Now, that’s that grown man… (You know what I’m saying!)
All kinds of things are being done right up under our noses in this world which is a human problem. Which surely matters and I haven’t come across many of those saints out there regarding the church, offering the refuge of their Gods to the lost. Hardly do ever I stumble across any tracts (pamphlets) littered on sidewalks as a testament like I used to, of the church’s presence. Perhaps because of theatrical plays and now like the Wizard of Oz refuge is hidden in those secret chambers when finagling sites, keyboards and that beloved screen time in chairs where feet dangle above floors and now dem folk gotta get in where and if they fit in to serve and praise the Lord. With everybody inspiring to be the next celeb or rich guy or gal, who has the time I guess?
With all these Gods and the illusion of freedom to be and do my life and your life anyway, I wanna see the movements of everybody and anyone’s choosing. Seemingly with all the free forms of consciousness, we’d feel an overload of protection around here. In a world like this with all this freedom and spirituality oozing out of everyone’s pores where is the realm of protection?
Photo Credit: Andrea Dialect
L.I.T Editorial Muse: Blackberry Sweet
PUT IT ON SPEED DIAL
As I said it times and times before and I’ll say it times and times again “Who’s your god, where they at? Call em’ and tell em’ that we sure can use some help around here!!!!
I wish that I could go back into history once more and just take a glimpse and inhale the sweet aroma of the good life once again. If I could pass through Broadway in Paterson, my native town and see all those guardian angels walking about or sitting around during their down times. If I could see the church revival tents and its parishioners guarding the streets. Like the original gangsters that they were while standing up for Christ and the rights of good for good, as doing good because they were; while nose to nose with evil, as spraying up the place with those bullets of praise.
If I could hear the deep belly laughter of children clothed in innocence once more. If I could take in the love of each one who taught one and the self-pride of a people. The love of humanity and the wiliness to do like my ancestors did who were warriors who ran head on, dead on with death as jumping ship in an instant, when unafraid. Because so o many did it so much, chains were brought in to hold them as forcing the engagement of a perverted life. Now, how powerful is that!
In my hood my protectors are a seventy-plus-year-old couple who live miles away, how sad. With the way things are looking perhaps, it would be pretty nice to enter into that realm of their protection taking on the role of that child forever more. I’d step across that threshold and live to bask in their love. My daddy’s ongoing protection and mama cooking meals. Then she and I would watch movies late at night and Id chat with daddy at leisure. Continuously hearing the beauty of their laughter and my daddy snores during his naps as I pass through for bathroom breaks.
Oftentimes I and the two would be hanging around with the two visiting stores, mainly thrifting and restaurants of all kinds as mommy and I scold or ignore daddy, who wants to rush the experience. What I wouldn’t give, but this isn’t logical. We can’t hide even though it’s an attractive option. We mustn’t hide in homes, distractions, or hide inside by going into ourselves. This thang called life is worth dying for. Cause without that being an option you’re dying anyway!
BRING IN THE WAILERS
Dear men of our communities. This is also a plea to all men, men of all races, stature, and culture. We as a whole feel unprotected and our world is at risk. The gates to our cities have been abandoned and our communities, our lives, and our world infiltrated by the wickedness of many people and things. Nobody’s guarding the gates and we are unprotected.
Dear women of our communities. This is also a plea to all women. Women of all races, stature, and culture. We have abandoned the post in many respects and our world is at dying. As a woman, I am aware of our plight. but despite it all, we must become that infrastructure of society by loving when it is most difficult to love once again. Although this is the most difficult of tasks, we have to. More importantly, we must commit to developing a relationship with the living God and an unwavering prayer life. We must find our way back home.
Dear church. This is a plea to all churches of all denominations. race, stature, and culture. Where are you? The internet is flooded with screen protectors, so we need no more. With one push of a button then what, we lose the whole base? WE NEED YOU!
Dear Black Churches we need less singing and more praying from the congregation, that’s where those voices of the choir can really help. We also need fewer prosperity sermons from the pulpit and more teaching from the spirit, heart, and soul to foster those much-needed survival strategies.
This is a APB; we are spirit beings thus we must come to that oil fight with the right extinguishers. Meaning ditch the water for the love of Christ. This is spiritual warfare, meaning stop watering it down or turning a blind eye to our current state. No matter what states you’re living in. If you want to live that is.
Photo Credit: Andrea Dialect
L.I.T Editorial Muse: Mocha
WHAT WE’RE LOOKING AT IS PLAIN OL GODLESSNESS IN ITS MANY FORMS
Once again, this war is spiritual. We are at war and the war of good vs evil has been prevalent since the beginning of time and since you took your first gulp. Thus we must fight fire with fire on all fronts. We are spiritual beings so we must operate as such. WE SHALL PAY HANDSOMELY for no rules, no ethics or morals, no regard for one another as you can certainly see. Those that have come before us are rolling around in their graves like ballerinas do, at the mere sight of how far we have fallen. UNLESS WE PUSH THE REBOOT BUTTON and force a restart the consequences shall be even direr. God is real you know. You just have to be certain that you’re rocking with the right one. THE MOST POWERFUL WEAPONRY IN THIS WORLD IS PRAYER! When I call mine, he shows up in a millisecond. What about yours?
ALL LIVES MUST UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS WHAT MATTERS…
WE NEED COVERAGE… if you’ve tried everything and everything’s failed TRY GOD, TRY PRAYER! By the way, there’s no more room in the closets. The women and children and elderly have them occupied as they should. We feel unprotected in this world, but there is hope. As we women are in our prayer closets our coverage will extend to the gates and our warriors no matter where they are. They will find their way there and we will be victorious as we fight together, man and women, black and white, and everything in between for life, humanity, and what is right and what is good.
WE MUST GET TOGETHER AND WORK TOGETHER. Check out the battle plan of this woman in my mother’s short “Coverage” held in the L.I.T Models hand in the photo as proof. (Be on the lookout for that this one in future articles) or it can be found in my book “Quiet! if you can’t wait and all lol. I am a believer because I am the beneficiary of such coverage and I saw and, see it with my own eyes. It works when you work it!
