The Price of Fame and Fortune

This was supposed to post yesterday in memory of Michael Jackson.  I'm late.  i apologize.

I didn't cry about Michael's death until I heard that there was a possibility that he may have committed suicide. There was talk about how much debt he was in and how much he still suffered from childhood trauma. He was so misunderstood, yet seemingly had such a good heart. I cried because I could identify with the pain. I understand what it's like to be misunderstood and to be lied on, criticized, ostracized by people who don't even know me. They just HEARD something about me and took it as gospel.

So, I wept for Michael and I wept for me. 

There is a high price one must pay to walk in the places that a man like Michael Jackson walked in. There is a loneliness, a feeling of isolation, insecurity, low self esteem that no one understands. You learn how to smile when on the inside you are dying. You learn how to laugh and tell jokes to mask your pain. Instead of confessing that you're hurting or you're weak, you become combative and argumentative and down right mean to keep people from walking over you. So people think you're tough...but if they only knew.

If they only knew the nights you cried yourself to sleep. If they only knew how many times you contemplated suicide. If they only knew how many notes you taped to the night stand because you made up your mind that tonight is my last night.

Me and Mike are not alone. The Prophet Jeremiah suffered from the spirit of depression and suicide like no other Prophet. When Jeremiah received the call from God, he didn't respond like some of us may have. When we go to service, and someone calls us out and tells us that God has called us to ministry, we feel special. 

We feel honored. We think it's a wonderful thing.We imagine the accolades we will receive.We have visions of people applauding when we walk into the sanctuary. We think about world-wide ministry and the notoriety that comes with that. We start looking at airplanes and private jets. We imagine the entourage that will travel with us. We see ourselves living the life.

But Jeremiah saw something different because he knew that the life he was being called to would not be easy. He knew that his ministry would be the object of ridicule, disdain, and persecution.

In fact, God didn't even tell Jeremiah like he told Abraham that "in blessings I will bless thee." No. God told Jeremiah, "And they shall fight against thee..."

Jeremiah's whole life was a fight. One battle after another. Not from the ENEMIES of Israel but from the PEOPLE of Israel. He had to fight the people whom he had been called to serve. Now I could stay right there all day.

So Jeremiah suffered from depression and you know how depressed people do. They start talkin' crazy. Jeremiah cursed the day he was born and cursed the man who told his daddy he had a son. He said he wished he had died in his mother's womb and questioned why he had been born in the first place. (Jeremiah 20:14). 

He lost his will to live. He got mad with God and said, "God you deceived me!" Anybody ever felt like God tricked you into obeying Him? Imma leave that alone.

But Jeremiah and Michael should have studied the life of King David. David also suffered from rejection after rejection. He was hurt many times but you never read where he became overwhelmed because one thing David knew how to do...

He knew how to pray!  He knew how to praise and worship his way into the presence of God.David took his isolation as an opportunity to get to know God. David was not accepted by his family so he would find himself on the side of a mountain, alone with the sheep and he took that time to fall in love with God.

He wrote songs that only God would hear. He read poetry to the Lord and wept in His presence. He sang to the Lord and blew Him kisses. He danced in God's presence when no one was around.

If only Michael had known how to do like David.  Michael could dance his fanny off but if he could have only danced like David danced!  If only Michael had known that in His presence there is fullness of joy.  In His presence, He will give you strength for the struggle.  In His presence, He will speak a Word in your spirit that will carry you through.

So when trouble knocks on your door, and it will. When you feel overwhelmed by the troubles of this world, run into the presence of God. Cry in His presence. Weep in His presence. But don't give up in the face of a fight. For I reckon that the suffering of this present time is not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us.  There shall be glory after this!

Until next time, may the Lord God bless you, real good.

For booking information, email sistashay8@gmail.com

Let Us Make Man

Let Us Make Man

Yesterday was Father’s Day. Usually around this time of year I make enough women so mad that at least 5 of them delete me as their Facebook friend.  Of course, I don’t care.  This year, however, I decided to take a softer approach.  I decided to remember what it was like for me before I had my epiphany.  Before I stopped feeling like a victim of my circumstances and accepted the fact that I was being chastened by my choices.  You see, I chose to have sex with someone that I was not married to.  I chose to marry a man who God did not tell me to marry.  That was on me.  Nobody forced me into bed and I didn’t say I do at gun point.  I was responsible for my own life.  Now that doesn’t exonerate the men I had children with from their responsibility.  It just means that they have to answer to God for them and I have to answer for me.

That was freeing.  Because you see, if it was my choices that got me in the mess I was in, then it would be my choices that would get me out.  I had the power to CHOOSE!  I chose to be the best mother I could be and give my children the best life I could give them with or without the assistance of their fathers.  And I did that.

So now, I have very little patience for women who male bash.  It is nonsensical to me for women to sleep with men with whom they have no commitment from and then act surprised when he shirks his responsibility.  What did you think he would do?  He already has three other kids that he isn’t taking care of.  Why do you think your kitty is so special that he will treat you and your child any differently than the women before you?   You knew about his past, you gave him some anyway.  Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you.  Deal with it.

 But, Sista Shay, I love him!  To that I respond, “So.  You’ll love another.”  However, if you choose to stay connected to this man whether he is your “baby daddy” (I hate that term) or your wayward husband, nagging him and talking about him like a dog is not going to make him better.  It’s just going to make you bitter.

As a woman, I understand the frustration of single mothers.  Something is wrong with some of these men.  They lie.   They cheat.  They play games.  They are lazy.  They are non-productive.  They are crazy and they are driving us crazy too. But I believe I have a Word for you today and I believe that through prayer and studying God's Word I have the answer to what is wrong with our "trifling" men.

Before I go further, I want to ask you a question about the man you are so in love with or were so in love with.  Did God present that man to you or did the devil do it?  This is important.  I didn’t seek God in my first marriage but I did have a feeling in my spirit that I was making the wrong decision.  I have since re-married and I BATHED that decision in prayer.  Without doubt, I know that God presented my husband to me and presented me to my husband.  I use the term “presented” because I do not believe that God puts people together.  I believe that he makes presentations and you have the right to choose whether you want to pursue the presentation or not.  I’ll deal with that at another time, but for the purposes of this message, I want to make it clear that if you enter into covenant with anyone that God has not presented to you, you’re asking for trouble.  And honestly, even though I know God presented myself and my husband to each other, we have definitely not been without our challenges to say the least.  However, we said yes to God and yes to each other, therefore, I have made the decision to stand on the Word God spoke over us unless and until He speaks another one.  And I really don’t care what anyone has to say about it either, but I digress.

In the book of Exodus, Chapter 1, verse 22, we read that Pharaoh, the king of Egypt issued a decree against the people he held in bondage, the Israelites or the Jews.  Pharaoh charged his people saying, "Every son that is born you shall cast into the river, and every daughter you shall save alive."  In other words, Pharaoh said, "Every male who will eventually become a man must die."  Speak Holy Ghost.

The spirit of Pharaoh is alive and well today.  And that spirit has issued a decree that every man must die.  That devil wants to kill our men.  He wants to kill them economically, intellectually, spiritually...he wants them graveyard dead.  And that's why we have community crime, drug usage and drug dealing, drive by shootings and outright ignorance.  That spirit wants to kill our men because it knows that if it kills the protector, the progenitor of life, the head of the family, then the woman will automatically fall prey.  If you kill the man, you have access to his woman.

And so, assassins have been sent out to destroy our fathers, our husbands, our sons, our brothers.  And we are left alone to fight the oppressor by ourselves.  We are left alone to raise our children.  To pay our bills. To take care of ourselves.  Now we are "Independent Women."  Yeah.  Independent and lonely.  Independent and bitter.  Independent and tired, depressed, mad, sad, suicidal, schizophrenic, bipolar...

But in Chapter 2, we read where Levi's wife conceived and gave birth to a son.  And the Bible says that she looked on him and saw that he was a "goodly child."  In other words, there was something special about him.  So because she didn't want her son to be thrown into the river to his death she hid him.  But eventually, he grew too big to hide so she built an ark and she sealed it with asphalt and tar and she put the baby in it and she placed him in the river.

Now the point I want you to grasp here is that the river is what she wanted to save him from but eventually she had to place him in that same river to save his life.  Only now, he was going in with protection.

I write to tell you that some of you have looked on your sons and you know that there is something special about him.  You've fallen in love with a man because you see greatness in him.  But they have issues that have grown too large for you to handle. You can't love him enough.  You can't cook enough dinner.  You can't give him enough sex to make him walk in the place he is ordained to walk.   Your man must submit to God.  Your son, no matter how much you try to teach him the right way to go, is making all the wrong decisions.

My advice to you is put them in the river.
Release them to God.
Let them go.

But when you do, don't put them out there without any protection.  Cover them with the blood of Jesus.  Pray a hedge of protection around them.   And while they are in the river, you cry out to God on their behalf.  Go down on your knees and pray.  Intercede.  Fast.  Wage war against the spirit of Pharaoh and tell him, "You can't have my man."

Grab that man up in the womb of your spirit and feed his spirit with the words you pray and prophesy over him.  Make that man with your mouth because whatever you say he is, is what he will be.  Say that he is the head and not the tail.  Say that he is healthy, wealthy and wise.  Say that the wisdom of Solomon is upon him.  Say that he is faithful.  Say that he is the human image of God himself.

Then wait.

Wait on your words to manifest.  Wait on God to fix him.  Wait on God to deliver him. Wait on God to make him into the man he was created to be.  And while God is working on him, let God work on you too.  Let Him heal you, let him mend your broken heart and your broken spirit.  Let Him help you to be a better woman.  Because the truth of the matter is, we women... we are crazy too.  You have power in your mouth.  You have the power to choose.  Choose to make that man, not break him.
His healing is your healing too.

Til next time...

Praise the Lord, Everybody! 

I am so excited in my spirit right now! God has strategically placed people in my life who have been nothing but a blessing to me and I am eternally grateful for my friends, both old and new. You know who you are and I want to tell you that I love you and I appreciate you so much. 

I am ecstatic because I can honestly say that I've got the victory! And nothing particularly astounding has really happened. The things I've been asking God to do, I'm still asking. The prayers that I've prayed, I'm still praying. The promises God made me, I'm still waiting on the manifestation. Despite that, I can still decree, declare, confess, and prophesy that I HAVE THE VICTORY! 

I can do that because I have walked with God long enough to know that my victory is not based on anything I see. It is not based on what people say about me. Good or bad. God has the final say and when He speaks, a whole lot of folks who have been runnin' their mouths will have to get            somewhere and SAT down! 

And while I"m there, let me say this too. When you call yourself praying on me, you better know what you're doing. I'm not an amateur in this thing, Sweetie Boo. I can see you. I know who you are. I know what you doing and I want you to know, I ain't scared. So work all the roots you wanna work. Light your candles and throw your dust. Cast your litleHarry Potter spells. NO WEAPON FORMED AGAINST ME SHALL PROSPER. I'm rubber, you're glue. Your little witchy prayers bounce off me and stick to you. You gon' hurt yo' self messin' with me. If you don't know, you better ask somebody. 

So my victory has nothing to do with my circumstances. My victory is based on what God has spoken to me about me when I was on my knees in prayer seeking His very presence. And when God speaks a Word in my spirit, I don't have to wait until the battle is over -- I can shout NOW! I can walk like I got it. I can talk like I got it. I can stand in my garage and see it parked in the driveway. I can go the dealership and pick out my Escalade. I can start packing my boxes. I can start looking at china patterns. I don't have to wait until next month, next week or tomorrow. I can walk in it NOW! 

But just because God speaks a Word, don't think that there will not be opposition. As a matter of fact, expect opposition because the Word that God speaks must be tried. So when your circumstances start speaking to you and making fun of your faith, what you do is go to God and say, 

"Now, wait a minute Jesus. Now, I remember..I was in my living room...I was folding clothes...It was 3:30 in the afternoon. You told me you was gonna bless me. But my circumstances are calling you a liar. I know what you said, God. I know what you told me and I am putting you in rememberance of your Word. Fix it Jesus! Fix it until it looks like what you told me! Fix it until my enemies are my footstool! Fix it until everything you promised me comes to pass!" 

You've got to wage war with the Word that God spoke over you. You've got to talk to your situation and tell it to line up with what He said. You've got to stand on that Word in the midst of everything that is wrong. And if you don't have a Word, you in trouble. You are about to get your teeth knocked in. If you don't have a Word you better go get one. I'm talking about a real Word from God. Not some little patty cake Word your ol' lyin' friends gave you. They don't pray any more than you. No, baby. Get on your knees, get in God's presence, get all that wax out your ears and get a Word from the Lord! 

I am praising God today in the midst of the battles that I am still fighting. Why? 

Because I've been in His presence. And He spoke to me. And He gave me a vision of what He is about to do. And it is marvelous in my eyes! And it won't be long. I am standing in earnest expectation of the manifestation of what HE SAID! 

The manifestation has not yet come, but in my mind's eye, I'm back on the East side of Bartow, "polk County, Florida, at the First Born Church of the Living God...I see the saints, pattin' their feet on the wooden floor of the church, I see Mother on the scrub board while another Mother is beating that one big ol' drum. I hear Mama Alice singing this song, "I've got a feeling that EEEEEEEEEEEVERYTHING is gonna be alright...The Holy Ghost told me....everything is gonna be all right." 

  

If I were to bring it back to modern day, I hear Yolanda Adams singing, "It's already alright..." 

So you don't have to wait 'til the battle is over. Shout now! Praise Him now! Declare that you have the Victory now! I dare you to praise Him! I dare you to bless His name! I dare you to call those things that be not as though they are! I dare you to look in the mirror and prophesy to yourself! Talk to your checkbook! Speak a Word over your children! Tell the devil he's a liar! Look at your enemies and fall out laughing. 

I've seen the final outcome! We win! We win! The Saints win! 

Hallelujahhhhhhhh! 'Scuse me while I praise Him! 

'Til next time, may the Lord, God bless you REALLLLLLLLLLLL GOOD!!!!

His NAME Is Great

Last night I watched the re-make of the mini-series Roots.  I didn't like it.  I should have known that I wouldn't because I have the entire original series on VHS and I've learned the lines word for word verbatim.

The scene that I particularly didn't like was the scene where Kunta Kinte is whipped to the point of submission and proclaims that his name is, in fact, Toby.  Though I didn't particularly appreciate the new dialogue, in that moment, something spoke to me.

Kunta Kinte tried to hold on to his true identity even to the point of death.  With every lash, he defiantly proclaimed that his name was Kunta -- Kunta Kinte.  But as the flesh was torn from his back and pain became more unbearable, he finally acquiesced and decided to become who THEY said he was.  He became Toby.

As I watched that scene, I thought about the black men of today.  My father.  My son.  My husband.  I thought about how they have had to fight the names that have been thrust upon them.  How they fought the labels of lazy, liar, thief, womanizer....but with every lash, it is harder to fight.  It is harder to stand.  It is harder to be who they were actually created to be.

As a black woman, who loves black men, it is difficult to watch that scene on TV and in real life.  We watch our men take the lashes of white supremacy, the lashes of a criminal justice system that is designed to entrap them, the lashes of their own community that tells them a man must rule his home with an iron fist and he must have multiple women.

We watch them take those lashes every day and we can do nothing.
We can love  them.  We can encourage them.  We can even wipe their wounds with our tears but we are helpless to the attacks on their minds that tells them they will be Toby or they will die.  We are helpless.

Or so it seems.  Unlike the women back then who watched a fine black man being beaten to nothing, as Godly women of today, we have a right and responsibility to say, "Enough!  It is enough!"  We can't protect them in the natural.  We can't beat up the bullies on their jobs, at their schools, in their minds.  But we can live a life on our knees, bombard heaven and engage in intercession that will heal them from the lashes they have already received and prevent any further lashes from landing.

So today, I encourage every woman, to take the posture of prayer when it comes to YOUR man...not somebody else's.  We as women always have been and always will be warriors when it comes to the men in our lives.  Make a decision to speak healing to his soul, his mind and his spirit.  And by all means, do not add to the lashes with your angry tongue.

Call that man by his name for his name Prophesies his destiny.  His name is Great.

Take Me Back!

I wrote this  a few years ago and I felt led to share it with you now. I hope it blesses you like it just blessed me.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ObMFJrQFwM

I went in my bathroom in an attempt to keep my children from hearing me cry. I slid down the wall doubled over in pain asking God why. Asking Him how. "Why is this happening, God? How could they do this to me? How could you let them? How could you, God! What in the world did I ever do to deserve to hurt like this! What ever I did, God, I'm sorry! Just show me what I did wrong and I promise I won't do THAT ever again!"

As I cried out to God over what I was going through, He reminded me of something I witnessed years ago.

A long time ago, I went to the health clinic to get my daughter's immunization records to register her for school. While waiting, another little boy was getting a series of shots. He cried up a storm after the first one. He pitched a fit after the second one. And when the nurse tried to give him his third and final shot, he turned to his mother and said, "Mama, please! I'll be good! I won't do it no more!"

The mother broke down and cried. She cradled her son in her arms, but she held him down and let the nurse give him his final shot. She had to let him experience that minor pain to protect him from something far more devastating that could attack his body later.

God began to say to me, "Just as that mother's heart broke for her son, my heart breaks for you. It breaks my heart to know that you think I am allowing this because I am punishing you. No. I am allowing this because I love you and I know that if I rescue you from this, something greater will come later and it could take you out. All I can do is hold you and wipe your tears. All I can do is comfort you until it doesn't hurt anymore. So be a big girl for Daddy. Take it. I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to protect you. You are being inoculated for what is yet to come. Because of this you will be able to take that..."

If you click the link above, you will hear what began the process of finally setting me free. Everything I've gone through was setting me up so God could TAKE ME BACK. When I watched Yolanda Adams sing that song, in a flash, I saw myself as a little girl who was once so hungry for God.

I saw myself running around that tent and speaking in tongues at the age of 7.
I saw myself laying on the altar and the ushers having to take me in a separate room so my pastor could do the benediction. They knew not to disturb me because the spirit of God would be on me so heavy. 

I saw myself having Bible study on the play ground.

I remembered when I prayed and God moved.

I remembered when I preached and folks were delivered.

I remember being a Minister of music and hearing God whisper in my ear during praise and worship.

I remembered when I sang under the anointing and I felt God's presence, just like Yolanda did on that video.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

My broken heart didn't matter. Who left, who stayed, who was coming back, who was there, who wasn't there...none of that mattered to me any more. And it still doesn't matter. I don't give a rip about who got a problem with me. You heard me? I know that I'm on my way somewhere and greatness is in my IMMEDIATE future. My destiny, as Paula White says, is not tied to anyone who leaves. I'm blowing 'em a kiss and waving goodbye.

All I want now is to feel God like THAT again. I want him to take me back to the time when I sought Him, craved Him, desired Him above all else.

I'm saying to Him:

Take me back to the place where I believed all things were possible!
Take me back to the time when I trusted you completely!
Before life happened...
Before I found out that everybody cryin' holy isn't really holy.
Before I found out that people can have gifts that don't match their character.

Take me back, Lord! Take me back to where I first believed!

So I give God the glory for the things that HE has done!

This morning, I can tell you with an assurance that IT'S OVER! The trials, the travail, the agony, the struggle..IT'S OVER! I'm walking into my destiny.

And I got to do what He told me if I want the things He showed me.
I'm looking for Him to fulfill the promises He made me and He's looking for me to submit to His plan and His purpose for my life.

My soul says, "Yes."

Black Men, Let's Talk About Rape by Chuck Hobbs Esquire

This is masterfully written commentary by my friend, brother and colleague, Chuck Hobbs.  Feel free to follow him on Facebook and Twitter for some of the most prolific ideas you will ever encounter.  

May 5, 2016

This week, my undergraduate alma mater, Morehouse College, made news not for its prestigious history of producing leaders like Dr Martin Luther King Jr, filmmaker Spike Lee or current Secretary of Homeland Security Jeh Johnson, or for adding to its lead among HBCU's in producing Rhodes Scholars. No, the news featured yet another allegation of rape by a young woman who attends our equally prestigious sister school, Spelman College.

Many of my Spelman Sisters were immediately apoplectic; many of my Morehouse Brothers immediately launched into "protect our brand" mode more than specific concern about the allegations, specifically, and rape on our campus in general.

For reasons that are far too complex to adequately address in a blog (or even two), Rape remains one of the most polarizing subjects among Black people. The root of this reality, I believe, stems from the fact that American Black culture by and large is similar to the same Christian dominated, patriarchal social structure that was the norm among Whites during early American history, a period that encompassed our ancestors enslavement by White men who often raped enslaved Black women with impunity.

Because of such sick and deeply shared histories and cultural mores, whenever a public incident of rape or alleged rape occurs, the anecdotal evidence that I have observed strongly suggests that there is a knee jerk reaction among many Black men--- and a strong number of Black women---who scrutinize the accuser far more than the accused. Well, that is if the accused is a Black male; when Officer Daniel Holtzclaw was accused and convicted of raping over a dozen Black women out in Oklahoma last year, Black media and social media went in hard on him, in part, because he is "white" (mixed, actually, but I learned long ago that among many Black folks, a mixed person with no discernable Black ancestry is White; see, for reference, George Zimmerman, Trayvon Martin's murderer).

But in the court of public opinion, when the alleged rapist is a Black man like former NFL star Darren Sharper, Florida Gators wide receiver Treon Harris or legendary comic and philanthropist Dr Bill Cosby, to name a few, the cloak of protection and defense among many Blacks for the alleged rapist is swift and absolute. The victims are run through the typical "slut shaming" questions such as: 1.Why did she have on a skirt and no panties, she must have wanted it, 2. Why was she at his house, apartment or dorm room that time of night because my momma told me that ain't nothing open after midnight but a convenience store and some legs; ergo, she must have wanted it; 3. Why did she drink, smoke weed, pop a molly, roll beans or snort coke with that man---surely she should have known what would happen next; ergo, she must have wanted it.

The aforementioned questions are not restricted to Black women, mind you, in fact, when the alleged victim is white and the accused is a Black man, Black social and traditional media light up with the additional reminders that false accusations of rape by White women led to many Black men dangling as "strange fruit" from southern and Midwestern trees from 1865 to the late 1960s. I, too, often incorporate this history as reminders in any rape case to use caution and allow the facts to hail forth first before condemning someone, such as the alleged rape case involving former Florida State University Heisman Trophy winning quarterback Jameis Winston from a few years back. As a former prosecutor in the very Tallahassee office that was considering charges against Winston and as a defense attorney who routinely handles (and often wins) cases against the same, I took it upon myself to carefully review the evidence in Winston's case once released where I concluded (and still conclude) that Winston was falsely accused of rape by his alleged victim.

But when the facts are there, to Hell with caution...

You see, for every falsely accused man like Winston, there are thousands upon thousands of cases where the accusation was legit---regardless of color. Some cases see a courtroom but many others do not, as victims fear the inevitable scrutiny that such events will entail.

As such, I say this morning to my Black brothers that chances are VERY great that you are related to or know women who have been raped. They collectively are our mothers, wives, sisters and girlfriends---many of them just may never tell you/us because they have listened to you/us defend alleged rapists without much scrutiny. They have listened to you/us blast Tupac's line "....alot of real G's are doing time, because a groupie bit the truth and told a lie."

Tupac's line, mind you, is absolutely true in SOME instances---but not all. Not by a longshot based upon my career experiences.

Equally compelling is the fact that while many of us know women who have been raped, we also know many men who have raped---or were about to rape someone's mother, sister, child or future wife. In my lifetime, I have intervened in three instances where I am convinced that if I and/or my squad had not stepped up, three women would have been victims of gang rape. Ironically, two were at Morehouse, once during my freshman year and again during my junior year. The last time was a few years ago when, while serving as a volunteer at the HCASC quiz bowl tourney in Orlando, if I had been a minute late to 3 am airport duty to help the students load their bags on the van, I would have missed a clearly inebriated young Black female being led like a lamb to slaughter to a hotel room by four young men who were ready to ravage her. How do I know, when I used my booming command voice to shout "Hey, what the Fuck is going on," those young men took off like roaches when the lights flip on. Fortunately, I was able to get the young woman safely to her hotel room and roommates.

Further, lest we forget that many Black boys and men get molested and raped, too. The recent revelations that rap music legend Afrika Bambaataa of the Zulu Nation may have molested hundreds of boys has been met with a collective yawn among many Black men. Oddly if not perversely, the same slut shame questions asked of girls and women are being asked on social and in the traditional media comments sections by some brothers about the brothers who were victimized by Bambaataa. Even worse was the response by one of my favorite rap artists, KRS-ONE of Boogie Down Productions, who recently averred: "For me, if you keep it hip-hop, nothing can be taken away from Afrika Bambaataa..But if you want to dig into dude’s personal life and accusations that’s being made and so on, personally, I don’t give a fuck..If somebody was harmed or whatever, y’all gotta deal with that shit. That don’t stop what you did for hip-hop. It don’t take away none of it. History is history. But deal with that. That’s personal."

I beg to differ, KRS-ONE, you have to give a fuck. We all do. Why? Because until we, as Black men, can begin to move past the trite dismissals of rape conduct and a culture of apathy where we shame the accuser more than analyzing the facts against the accused; when we as Black men automatically defend the accused regardless of the evidence offered by the accuser; when we, as Black men, worry more about the "brand" of the Cosby Show or the good name of Dear Ol' Morehouse as opposed to making sure that women and girls, men and boys, can confront those who violate their bodies by rape, then we, collectively, are no better than those evil White slave masters who violated our ancestors by raping them years ago.

My God.

Miracle Bars!