© 1995 Michael J. Jackson
© 1995 MJJ Productions Inc.
One of my favourite MJ videos/songs; it perfectly reflects what it is like being focussed in the waking state and being Black and having every little bigoted shitwit projecting their racially predatory shrapnel onto you… Alas, such moments for moi are ever only fleeting rather than enduring as it is for way too many.
Nothing like screaming aloud to someone crossing to the other side of the street as you approach as they project their embarrassing perceptions, “I don’t want your fucking handbag!” So much healthier to do that than be slighted and absorb the psychic shrapnel projected onto one’s aura. Alas, one comes home turn up the volume on some Coltrane, Ellington or Davis and raise the vibration to more evolved octaves for having been weighted down by the ill-evolved and their negativity – those marvellous people who haven’t the foggiest clue that they are remotely negative.
I was saying to someone earlier this evening, who had read the last dream offering about Bentleys and Ladas, that in the 40 years of being in Canada that I have NEVER once experienced racial animus – not subtly, overtly or otherwise from a single Chinese-Canadian and that speaks volumes to the fact that what one experiences as a ‘Black’ in this society has nothing to do with one and the collective mental health or lack thereof of others. The same is true of First Nations persons which is why for me going to Pow-wows is how I connect with Canada; pow-wows are about coming home!
One of the reasons for loving this video is that when first I saw it, whilst then living in Vancouver’s West End, there was a point where I shot up straight in my spine whilst feeling truly elevated. This occurred at the point where the Oriental chords are played. This very same music I had first heard in a diffused manner in a dream encounter with Michael Jackson himself in 1989, the dream is shared in this blog and entitled: “Man in the Mirror” on Friday, February 10, 1989 whilst Merlin was then still incarnate. At the time, I had recently begun recording the dreams on audio-cassette because he had such a hard time making out my rather fluid script.
Speaking of Chinese, the youngest souled member of my immediate family has a hard time making out who is who ethnically. This for me is so bizarre, since childhood, I have always been able to tell the difference between northern and southern Chinese, to say nothing of Japanese, Thai, Vietnamese. No, all Asians do not look alike as she will exasperatingly say when being unable to tell. How anyone can mistake a Korean for Japanese or even Chinese has always been a total mystery to me.
In any event, speaking of Chinese – a culture for which I have always had a great affinity, I recently learnt as part of my ongoing indefatigable quest to learn, to know, to self-explore that I had a very pivotal life back there in China.
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