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Sunday, March 21, 2010

[Revised] Last Video Testimony of an SF OG

Last Video Testimony of an SF OG [Today's News Poem March 21, 2010]
“In 2008, Rich Hohl turned a troubled corner liquor store on San Francisco's Divisadero Street into an airy neighborhood cafe,”
“I've lived just up the corner from Divis for the past 16 years, and this is far from the type of corporate gentrification we've seen in other neighborhoods. I'm sure, if things were to reach a certain stage, we'd see Starbucks and Pottery Barn try to make inroads, but for now it's locals making our neighborhood better without all the outside opportunism.”
derakus 3/20/2010 9:52:42 PM
“Most Black natives have the same story: Their grandparents are from the South; they moved here and bought a house or two with the money they earned; much was lost or devastated by the crack epidemic.”
“How about this for a plan for sprucing up our nation’s crumbling housing projects: ship lazy black folks out to the subprime suburbs, privatize their apartment buildings and hand them over to real estate developers. That’s what T.A. Frank, a New America Foundation think tank shill, thinks Los Angeles needs to do with Jordan Downs, a notoriously dilapidated and crime-wracked project in Watts:”
“See, when street crime happens, that's bad. When crime happens against a whole racial-socioeconomic class, well, that's just 'progress.' I hate the gangsters too, but I totally get why Boots Riley wants to toss you all in a pit and machine-gun you to death.”
--khakjaan 3/21/2010 3:35:01 PM

“Question: What do $42,600 and $5 have in common?
Answer: they both represent the median net wealth of middle-aged American women. The only difference between the two numbers is race; while single white women from the ages of 36 to 49 have a median wealth of $42,600, single black women have a net wealth of just $5.”
-Charlotte Hill March 13, 2010 11:12 AM

The food obsessed may care about their meat;
The way it lived before it died to feed
A hungry maw: a privilege elites
Afford with theft to slake their goddamn greed.
I do not want to die my love—I fear
What may become of us. I can't protect
You—hell, I can't defend myself from gears
I scarcely understand, from architects
Of projects, crack cocaine...They want to chain
You up my love (my baby boy) to die
By sips of beer... by ways I can't explain.
They stole our neighborhood, I won't comply.
Instead, I'll stalk the corner I love best.
When yuppies come, I'll detonate my vest.

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