ts, originally uploaded by SisterSafetyPin.
When you are young and raised as a Christian... Or rather, when you are young and from a family with deep roots in the South and raised a Baptist... Correction Missionary Baptist [12 loyal years, 3 confused years, and 3 forced years later, I'm still not sure what the distinction means. | For those attempting the math, I stopped going the week after I turned 18.]

But my point...

When you are raised by black transplants... [I prefer to use the word, "black." Why? Because as a little person I thought if I used only the word 'black,' in reference to myself people would see how ridiculous it is. After all, I'm pretty sure I passed kindergarden for a reason... One of them was my ability to distinguish colors. Upon learning that skill I realized I was... In fact... Brown! And as I grew older I just found 'black' less... Other than 'African-American.' I didn't immigrate here... So why would I need an extra quantifier on American? Most days even that label feels to heavy in the face of its government's decisions...]

But once again... I've gotten lost in a tangent in what is, or should be, a fairly serious post.

When you are raised the way I was, there are certain phrases that stick with you. Like a certain pastor's favorite phrase... Or certain unspoken Church specific rules.... But mainly, it will be the little things that all of the very old women that crowded you as a child never stopped repeating... And of course was then echoed from everyone with the will to hear.

For tonight's purpose, I'll tell you the one being focused on: Don't Claim It

Of course, you'd never hear it that straight forward from one of them... No no, for them you need any number of quantifiers... like: [fuck it never mind, I was going to type them the way they end up sounding but it just looks stupid] Child, girl, son, etc...

And as cliche as it is... Even though it's a holdover from a place full of hypocrisy... It's something that's stayed with me.

When I'm worried? Don't claim it. When I'm ill? Don't claim it. When I might be ill?

Yeah. You get the idea.

However, as I sit hear with a pounding headache on the cusp of giving in and acknowledging that there might be a problem... I can't help but hear an old women muttering, not to claim it.

But, how much of that is wisdom passed down through ages... And how much of it is sticking your ass in the air and hoping if you bury your head low enough it will go away?

I don't know, and I've got years of hiding from possible endgame probabilities under my belt.

To some degree I still am. With one breath I resolve to get answers, with the next I hope it will all go away. With the third I pretend the last two thoughts never happened and change the song...

I'm not really sure where to end this. There is no answer to my question of the day. If there were, there'd be no conflicted pain filled emotions to spur this post.

And by pain filled, I mean literal head pain. I'm not so angsty as to just throw around melodrama the way the Godmother threw around money...

Google her

Lift every voice and sing..



Flame, originally uploaded by SisterSafetyPin.
I'm constantly wondering if I should delete this picture & amd hand full of other pictures. It's not very good and I feel like cluttering my flickr pool with bad pictures makes me look bad. *shrug*

I'm also cracking out to Erykah Badu at the moment so I may also clutter my blog with excerpts from her songs.

But I've been thinking... I think sometimes think that my happiness is tied to my father's and my grandmother's. Why?

Because I am so much like them.

I once told my grandmother I was her reborn, so there was little hope for me. Ha.

But seriously.... I am much to like them both. So I always find myself rooting for their happiness. Because if they can make it work in this world, then surely so can I.

It may sound ridiculous, after all, only we can make our own happiness. At least, that's what common thought believes.

Whether it's true or not is something up for debate.

But... well... I don't actually know. Blah. Fistful of Mercy just started playing.

I don't want to waste your time...
But I will, yes I will, yes I will
If you give me a reason

I Don't Want To Waste Your Time | Fistful....

Purpose | Loitering

data, originally uploaded by SisterSafetyPin.

Help me understand your purpose in my life. I've written bad poetry about you. Stayed up light at night worrying about you. Cried constantly and doubted myself over you. I've left you behind many times and yet... You always come back. Always returning to my awareness only after I've hardened my heart to you. And always leaving a trail of confusion in your wake.

Leading me to abruptly end contact so that the question of you leaves me be, if only for a while.

But you always return and I always respond. So the question is why? What game are we playing? Do you know? Because I'm no longer 16 and I'm tired of not knowing the rules.

What is your purpose in my life? What is mine in yours?

One of us needs to figure this out.


So I wrote this a week ago, while at a show in local place called the Naked Lounge. I was half a beer in, listening to great music by a fellow buddha while people many beers deep yelled nonsense... And I remember just suddenly feeling... Like I wanted to feel more than I did. I was sad that the feelings were no longer there. Or were they/ are they/ still there; buried so deep behind unresolved teenage tears that it simply feels like there is nothing?

Who. fucking. knows?

However, the fact remains we're like that stupid couple in Brokeback Mountain. I'm tired of thinking "I wish I could quit you."

...lol Ok, so I've never actually thought that particular phrase....

But I am tired of being emotionally tied to someone I've spoken to at least a few months out of every year since I was 16.

Stop Loitering. 

Come in or get out. Your letting all of the fresh air out of my life.

"And she said she needs more than a friend
Thats all I've ever been...
Well, one day when are you gon overstand...
And I remember the first day that we met ya
How could I forget, cha?
When you smile and I turned and I say to you, yo
yo your pure and true"
-Erykah Badu


Bum Rap or Op-ed

Roger Waters Pig

"Obama's bum rap on entitlement reform"

That is a really solid article on the state of Obama's politics in the face of what he promised versus what he's done. The article ends on a President positive note. I wont.

I can't help but wonder what that state of Obama's presidency says for all of us that must continue to live in this country. What does Obama's failure at bi-partisonship mean for the youth?


Youth are easily riled passionate beings of fury.

Given the right cause or spark, the youth will start a revolution. Just look at Egypt. However, as passionate as the youth are, they are equally predisposed for extreme sudden onset jaded-ness.

And when the youth collectively give up on a society, may the cosmos help the society that has to deal with the aftermath.

And what does this have to do with Obama? Everything.

A President that road the wave of youthful passions to the White House, on a board that promised change has only managed one meaningful one. The disillusionment of the youth.

College tuition in the CSU system has risen at least 6 times over the past two years.

Health Insurance is still far to expensive for any Gen- Y or Millennial to afford. Not to mention that the bill that was passed simply made it illegal to not have insurance. While of course, making sure no government funds went to aid a woman's right to her body's goings on.

Jobs are non existent.

And for what? For the Democrats to lose control of the House? For the Republicans to lose control of their crazies? For the many non-wars that miraculously continue to be funded by the never ending supply of money that can never be found when it comes to education? For the complete erosion of our Civil Rights in our misguided quest to maintain the appearance of safety in the midst of the chaos that is the World at Large.

We are tired of the political squabbling and we've yet to even reach our 30's.

We'd Declare Independence, but all the land's been claimed and our quiet withdraw would never be allowed in the third wave of Imperialism.

So what do we do? How do we survive the evidence that our only real hope for Change was a lie and the future is grim?

Daisaku Ikeda said in his 2010 peace proposal for the U.N. that we are living in an Interregnum of Values.

What this basically means is we are living in a gap of social sanity. A flux in time that will decide the pace for the next age.

That means this is the most critical. And if we cannot count on our governments to make the appropriate Executive and Legislative changes needed to weather the flux and come out better for it... Than we must BE the change.

Now as cheesy as that sounds, it's not, and it's a completely valid point.

Consumerism and Capitalism masquerading as Globalization for the good of the people has created the situation we're in. Not paying attention while governments played chess with the world's natural resources. Treating human lives as both pawns and rooks to jealously guard the King's monopoly on crude oil, has lead to the situation we're in.

Apathy on the part of the world has lead us here.

So we must re-engage. Money talks louder then silence. Voting rings a lot longer then complaining after the polls close.

News does not watch itself and change does not come to the uniformed.

Recognize that change happens on the backs of those willing to live with uncomfortable knowledge that speaking out for meaningful change generally paints a target that never goes away.

Orwellian Nightmare? That's just the way it is right now.

But the point is that it doesn't have to stay this way. It's time we regroup. 

Counting on the sweet nothings of government has proven disastrous, so it's back to the drawing board.

I'm thinking that if we all individually focus on Humanism, shit might actually get done. After all, the government will only do what popular opinion finds acceptable.

Also, a little more personal responsibility is also going to be needed. The blame game has lasted far longer then it should have and it's impeding societal progress.

Let's agree that even if scientists never come to consensus about Global Warming, we could all use a little less.

Recycling really isn't that hard, let's do that as well.

Because sad truth is: I'm tired of feeling hopeless and disappointed in my government. I continually meet people that speak sense and yet never see that sense reflected in national opinion, and that's unacceptable.

I will no longer be complacent and content to allow the crazies to control the national discourse.
I will engage more. And if even one other person opens their eyes and looks around for the first time because of me, I'll consider it a job well done.

Bum Rap or Op-ed? This is my op-ed. 

Declare Independence of thought.

This post was written entirely on my phone


When I Die

Waiting for Daft Punk, originally uploaded by SisterSafetyPin.
In Short

When I die, I will force all attendees to smoke Mary Jane and listen to Daft Punk's Alive 2007 album. While the album played their would be a slideshow of all of concert photos.

After the album had played in it's entirety someone would say, "On September 3rd, 1987... Candyce Chrystina Moore was born to Aurora Endora and James Marcus." Then that person would leave.

Then another person would come up and explain about Michael Jackson and Aerosmith.

Then another person would come up and explain about Philosopy, Feminism, Politics and Religion.

Then another person would could up explain the art of Live Shows.

Finally, after all of that someone come up and explain about Love, Friends and Family.

Lastly, someone would come up explain the reason for the music. Candyce saw Daft Punk live in Vegas at a music festival while her great aunt's funeral was taking place in LA. But as sad as she was, as she danced under the night sky with the thousands of other people... She'd never felt closer to her Aunt, the cosmos or anything.

And it was good.

[haha Jesus joke!]

But really, my funeral sounds awesome I wish I would be able to actually enjoy it instead of being... You know, dead.




King Khan and the Shrines, originally uploaded by SisterSafetyPin.
So it's that time of the year again, and I couldn't imagine a better intro to the year than this.

The Coachella Line-up has been announced.

And while there are many [as always] that are bemoaning Coachella's 'sold out soul' I am excited.

What's funny is, right now.. I'm mostly excited by an all black cast.

Lauryn Hill.
Erykah Badu
Nas & Damien Marley
Kanye West...

I was so shocked and elated by those 5 names I completely missed the rest of the line-up. Meaning that I've endured rolling waves of excitement as each new band entered my awareness.

Scissor Sisters.... Trentmoller... CSS... Cee lo... Raphael Saadiq... Cold War Kids.. Gogol Bordello... Flogging Molly...

Seriously, and that's so just the tip of the iceberg. There will be I believe 180 bands this year. That means I once again must educate myself on the bands I don't know and brush up on the ones I love.

But oddly, I've found a new component to love and look forward to Coachella.

My sister.

Or rather, the musical sponge that she is right now. She's in this place where everything is shiny. She's a teenager and she's really beginning to understand how awesome and vast the world is. And thanks to me... [I'm not being full of myself, it's seriously thanks to me exposing her to different things and talking to her like a young adult instead of a child...] She's fully in a place to embrace it. She's ready for the mind blowing experience that is discovering a new band and hearing it live.

And what's more... I'm starting to realize that I want to be the one to introduce her to the world of live music. So I've promised to take her to Coachella next year. And I will, even if I have to give up coffee for a month.


Because it's really freaking awesome having a little sister that you see yourself in. [What can I say? I'm slightly a narcissist] Also... I don't know how to fully explain...

I guess it's like being a parent and discovering that your child actually looks up to you and considers you a major factor in their musical foundations.

I had that bond with both my parents. And because of that I was constantly defending my absolute love for Michael Jackson and Aerosmith. But I never felt odd or weird. I felt like I was leagues above my friends, because I wasn't afraid to sit down and give new music a try.

And now my sister has that bond with me. It's pretty cool. All the BS they sell you about the The Joys of being an Older Sister actually pan out...

You know... What's you survive their annoying years.

But seriously, dude....

Lauryn Hill and Erykah Badu....