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Friday, October 30, 2015

Moorish Ratchetry: Rum, Rage, Riddim & Religion

In post-medieval Southern Europe there was a dance that French and Spanish locals considered super ratchet in their time. It was introduced into Europe by the Moors, and it was called the Zarabanda. I’ve provided a video below so that you can watch a reenactment of how the dance was performed.

It looks very tame by our standards, doesn’t it? This should give you some indication of how adept the Roman Catholic Church was at suppressing sexual expression in 16th century Europe. Any public interaction between a man and a woman that generated the slightest feeling of pleasure in participants or onlookers was regarded as lewd and obscene because the people were sexually repressed. However any intense desire that is blatantly denied will eventually bring about some form of psychosis.

Twenty five years from now people will look back at video footage from a Jamaican Passa Passa celebration and say that it’s very mild. As the Catholic church continues to implode on itself, blow job sessions in crowded city streets won’t be considered a big deal by global consensus. You won’t be able to see, the Vitamin D, because it’ll be past your eyes, Milk.

In the Congolese spiritual tradition known as Palo Mayombe, the deity Zarabanda is a fiery and fearless warrior who is also an intermediary between the realm of the “dead” and our world of the living. He slays the evil with his machete which is called a “mbele.” ElephantMan says Drop Dead, drop dead, drop dead, dead, dead, dead. In his book Kimbiza Santo Cristo: Return of the Holy Grail, Knights Templar and Grand Dragon, author Markus Rodrique shares some powerful information on Zarabanda in the chapter entitled “Zarabanda: The Black Knight.”

Today there is a beer that was introduced by a Spanish chef and it is also known as Zarabanda. It’s made with hot peppercorns which brings to mind the fiery temperament of the Congolese deity who goes by the same name. Of course we know that beer is an alcoholic beverage, but the circumstances that lead to its widespread use in Europe are not commonly known.

                                    Zarabanda Beer

Medieval Europe was plagued by sanitary issues, so the Moors popularized the consumption of alcohol to protect themselves from water-born diseases like cholera. An alcoholic beverage is also known as a “spirit” in common parlance, but what spirit is conjured when it is consumed in excess? There are many viable speculations. The one that would yield the most truth would probably be the one garnered from examining the etymology behind the word “alcohol.”

The English word “alcohol” is derived from the Arabic word “Al-kuhul” which means “The Kohl,” but kohl is a metallic powder. The Palo spirit Zarabanda is a metallurgist and many people who are drunk have a tendency to exhibit the aggressive or even violent qualities that one might associate with Zarabanda, minus the discernment that he is noted for. Drinking excessive amounts of alcohol  causes iron toxicity from the build up of iron in the body.

 I do not think that it is a coincidence that the Congolese deity Zarabanda is heavily associated with iron, his precious metal. This is not “spookism” and superstition. This is African science explained through character metaphor. Nevertheless, one who is active in the Palo Mayombe tradition may have thoughts that are contrary to what has been presented here which may provide us with further understanding.

In the medieval period, Europe experienced an explosion in information pertaining to the African Life Sciences which were recodified (remixed) and given new names like “Al-Khemy,” “Rosicrucianism,” and “Solomonic Magic.” For many people who are identified as African over the centuries, religious affiliation is based on politics. Spirituality is based  on cultural traditions that are rooted in clanship/nationhood (ancestry).

To think that the history-making Moors of old Europe practiced orthodox Islam as we know it today is historically inaccurate and culturally naive. They were always working, and experimenting  with, the African Life Sciences. This is the only reason why Moorish culture was far richer than the contemporary Islamic ones  so prevalent in other parts of the world.

In short, Europe’s Moorish legacy was no greater than the amalgamated African traditions that it fortified itself with. People are most powerful when they make an effort to honor the culture and the traditions of lineages that they come out of. The lead photo is a 14th century English depiction of The Beast spoken of in the Book of Revelations.

When your enemies depict you as a devil, with the power to wipe away all that they hold dear and sacred, it is actually a sign of respect. This is because in order for them to see you in that light they would have to give their personal power away to you. We stood proudly in our ancestral cultural traditions back then, cloaking them in the veil of foreign religious doctrines like Christianity and Islam. It was our little inside joke on the world.

Now we mistake our outer garments for our flesh and ask why our little girls are beaten up in concentration camps disguised as schools. Love the skin you’re in. Your skin, being your timeless spiritual cultures rooted in art and science. We were taught to abhor our nakedness because our bodies are beautiful.

A lot of us are afraid of getting back to what has historically been proven to magnify our power, because what makes us powerful will cause other groups not to like us. But guess what? Nobody likes us. They never have. They only like what we create for their consumption and personal pleasure. Our power is in our art and our science filtered through a keen understanding of human psychology and what motivates human beings even on the most primal levels. Let’s work with that.

That sword is still ours. All that we have to do is reclaim it.

Friday, October 23, 2015

Medusa's Stare: The Words Within the Eyes

Whatever you obsessively fear, you purchase through the currency of human emotion. Your deepest, most guarded fears are always confirmed. Always. And why wouldnt they be? Youve paid for them.

The hopelessly fearful are not highly intuitive or psychically gifted. Theyre just scared. Their miscarried worries are always conceived, only to be birthed in the strength of their own weakness.

Every coward you know is really a prophet who is gifted at foreseeing a future that he really doesnt want for himself. Tomorrow understands nothing unpaid for, but these words were only meant for today. Dont take them in vain. Take them in vein.

Intravenously Yours,

Adika Butler

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

The Divine Economy of the Neteru

What if the Neteru are conceptual place markers that allow us to identify deceased members within our families whom we are supposed to use as  substitutes for these colorful characters found in ancient Kemet’s divine narratives?

A great grand father who was gentle with children, instilled loving confidence in women, and was highly respected by other men, would be Ausar.  A grand uncle who provided a platform for creative artists to express themselves and inform the public of their unique talents would be Ptah. That lawless older brother who ran the streets ragged and was always in trouble with police would be Set. 

The word “Nature” is derived from the Kemetic word “Netcher” which those of us who speak English would call a “god” or a “goddess.” However the Kemetyu (ancient Egyptians) were talking about emanations of intelligence that are inherent in our environment. They weren’t talking about a physically imposing or potentially brutal man or woman, which is what “god” and “goddess” mean at their German root.

To the old Germanic mind, shaped an molded by Norse culture, a man who was able to break into another man’s home and beat him bloody and senseless before raping his wife and kids would be considered a “god.” Nevertheless, many of us use the words “god” and “goddess”  when discussing non-German pantheons because of our common understanding of what they mean on a colloquial level.

A lot of times we may get great ideas while we’re relaxing in a park or taking a stroll on the beach. We’re constantly gaining insight and receiving information from a wide variety of sources. Some people are drawn to calming waterways. Others are drawn to the fire, the earth, or open air. But why? Perhaps the answer depends on the most dominant zodiacal element (Earth, Air, Water, Fire) that corresponds to those deceased relatives who are making the greatest effort to communicate with us.

Replacing the Neteru with the personality profile equivalent of ancestors within our own family lines may have a greater impact on transforming us internally than the gods themselves.  This is because we would be tapping DIRECTLY into parts of ourselves on a conscious level.  I sometimes hear people say “brothas and sistas got all of this knowledge and they’re still pieces of shit.”

But we need to understand that just because someone has fully conceptualized the Neteru on an intellectual level it doesn’t necessarily mean that the deities have been activated in their own blood streams. Then again, you have instances where one or a few of the Neteru are wide awaken in the blood, while the majority are fast asleep.

Maybe the only way to stimulate the Divine Economy of the Neteru within us is to consciously line the deities up with intelligences who are actually part of us: our ancestors. That  beloved uncle who was known for his penmanship would leave a deeper imprint on your heart and mind than some half naked dude you never met or spoke to with the head of a bird. And yes, I understand much of the totemic symbolism behind the visual presentation of different Neteru, but are you getting my point?

The aforementioned image of Tehuti from the ancient world may not resonate with the psychology of a man living in 2016. But what if that all-wise, all-knowing deity was replaced with the memory of a male relative with similar qualities as Tehuti? What if Tehuti was seen as the man who helped him with his homework as a little boy, or talked to him about the importance of being himself before his first date as a teenager coming of age? How would you or I even understand Het Heru’s true value and significance in mythology unless we’ve had a Het-Heru in our own lives as a personal frame of reference for her?

Popular culture encourages the proliferation of crazy, dysfunctional individuals who come together to create crazy dysfunctional families. When the deranged and horribly flawed people who were raised in these families die, what spiritual currency will they leave as an inheritance to their descendants who are left behind to toil in the realm of the living? How do these would-be heirs—who may be genuinely interested in self-improvement—compete with other men and women who have inherited what I will call inter-generational spiritual wealth? It’s a grueling uphill battle, and such is the nature of life for so many.

The Book of Coming Forth from Night by Day (more recognized as The Egyptian Book of the Dead) may hold keys that can assist those of us looking to tap into the greatness within. Think of a quality within yourself that you would like to cultivate. Figure out the Netcher that corresponds to that quality or trait, and then see if there is a transformation spell (specifically in Chapters 77 to 88) in the BOCF related to that deity or intelligence.

If there is, read the spell out loud while substituting the deity’s name with the deceased relative who would correspond with that Netcher’s archetype. Our blood vessels are the banks that the current of wealth flows through. Today we claim the wealth within  through the Divine Economy of the Neteru.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Something About Mali...

“Mamadou, please hurry before my hubby gets back home,” says Sarah Cohen with a slight quiver in her voice. The meandering Malian unbuckles his belt and pops the button on his jeans. He pulls them off slowly. One leg at a time.

Sarah eagerly pulls down his boxers to reveal his ashy charcoal burner which flares thick with defiant anticipation for the young porcelain maiden before him. Mamadou  rubs his bop-gun nozzle against the lips of Sarah’s pink purse, which is where he’s thinking about depositing  all 666 talents of his black gold.

Sarah’s on her plush bed—with its sterling silver canopy—spread out on her knees like fresh mayonnaise waiting for her hero. Her face is down. Her alabaster bottom is poking up, as her heart races to that distant place where only death and desire meet.

“Plant that fat, black fucker in my pussy Mamadou, I want to go back to Africa,” Sarah affirms as Mamadou rolls his eyes. With her tiny fist full of abundant cock, she slowly guides her attentive visitor into the creamy portico of her Brazilian-waxed tabernacle.

“Hold on a minute,” says Sara’s husband, Rabbi Vladimir Cohen from his front row seat just two feet away from the couple's bedside. “Not now Vladimir, youre ruining my moment,” a flustered Sarah interrupts. “I really need this!!!”

The rabbi resists. “Sarah darling, take a deep breath and relax. Let me handle this.” Vladimir focuses all of his attention on the Visitor. “Mamadou, are you kidding me? I mean...are you really kidding, me? You mean that you’re actually going to stuff that African baobab tree inside of my wife? I mean, by the time you’re done her cunt is going to look like our daughter’s hula-hoop. Holy shit. I can’t believe this…”

Mamadou smiles. “Do you believe in God, Rabbi?” Vladimir betrays a sarcastic grin. “Yes, Mamadou. Yes. As a matter of fact, I do. I’m in the business of God.” Mamadou, cloaked in  pitch-black darkness, takes a few steps toward Vladimir. “Is God inside your Torah, Rabbi?”

Vladimir chuckles with amusement. “Yes, the Torah is God’s exclusive throne where he eternally resides. The holy Torah encapsulates the entire scope of universal understanding—past, present, and future.”

Mamadou smiles. “In my culture, the totality of God could never be encompassed by any one book, Rabbi,” he says. “God is everywhere and in everything, especially that which the human mind has yet to conceive. However I believe, as you clearly do,that immeasurable greatness can find its place in small spaces. With that said, your wife’s womb will be the page upon which I will write my new Testament. What I need you to do is stay seated and keep quiet as I give your spouse exactly what she has been missing just as you had graciously asked me too.” Vladimir sits speechless.

Mamadou walks back to the bed where Sarah  is laying. She assumes her position. Mamadou presses his pressure point past her rose pedal gates, to traverse her milk road without even the slightest hint of resistance. Several minutes elapse within Sarah’s hourglass of time as Maumadou vigorously plunges balls-deep into her self-contained, sandy frame, driving her beyond the limits of euphoric hysteria.

Vladimir’s icy blood vessels began to thaw, from the confessions of fire that he saw. He was entranced by lust. Perspiration. Envy—and steady rounds of pelvic applause.

A throbbing erection arose from the cemetery of his loins like the holy Shekhinah from the Temple of Solomon upon its destruction at the hands of ruinous Babylonians. Vladimir stared mindlessly at Maumadou’s broad shoulders and sweaty back and saw the deepest darkest depths of cosmic space in his imposing form.

The African moved with the natural force of creation to bring Sarah to perfect ATONement. “You want to have my baby, dont you, Sarah?” Maumadou asked her. “YES MAMADOU!!! YES!!!” she replied emphatically. “Spit your black ink on my white page and I will make you a king!!!”

Vladimir pulsated like a brand new star that had been forged in the heavenly furnace of AbraHAM’s constellation. His wife’s unrestrained joy infused him with an overwhelming erotic force that his direct sexual experiences with her had never  evoked from him.

Mamadou withdrew his Tree of Life from Sarah and sacrificed his kids to the Moloch tattoo on her lower back. “Bitch, I was born a king,” he said before giving her a playful spank on her ass. “I was crowned by my mother when my head passed through her ring of fire at birth.” Hot Shmita spilled from Sarah’s lower back down her sizzling buffy cheeks as her overheated body shuddered with spastic approval.

Mamadou got dressed, collected his money and then walked right out the bedroom door. However on the Cohen’s bedroom dresser he left a small black cube made of wood with obscure sigils and Arabic inscriptions. However, instead of calling Mamadou to let him know that he left the foreign object, Vladimir put the cube in his pocket. From there, the story begins....


Mali pop a Judah creamy kola nut shootah. Stab a rose slab, with the boabab. Blow out backs just like a tuba. Invoke the power of  comPuTAH. I'm in your smart phone like I knew ya. My word is iron. I feed the lion, with a steady current from the future...

Mali Poppa Judah creamy coconut nut shootah. Jabba hoe slab, with the boabab. Blow out backs just like a tuba. Invoke the power of  comPuTAH. He's in your smart phone like he knew ya. His word is iron. He is the lion, generating a current for the future...

Mali pop a Judah creamy kola nut shootah. Stab a rose slab, with the boabab. Blow out backs just like a tuba. Invoke the power of  comPuTAH. I'm in your smart phone like I knew ya. My word is iron. I feed the lion, with a steady current from the future...

Sunday, October 4, 2015

The Origin of the Name "Africa"

Now I am sure that there will be some who will read the title of my 2013 interview, “The African Origin of Ancient Sumerian Civilization: My Q&A with Hermel Hermstein” and say that it is a mistake for me to make a distinction in classification between Africa and an ancient Black civilization located in a region that many call “The Middle East.”

They will argue that the land designations perpetuate a divisive geopolitical construct fomented by white propagandists posing as credible historians of high academic integrity. These historical revisionists that authentic Black scholars have engaged in intellectual combat have tried to divorce Black men and women from their ancient cultural legacy. I have been in perfect solidarity with critical observers who have made this point for years. You will find that I have made this formal acknowledgment in my older writings.

I am intimately aware of the fact that in ancient times, there was no geographical distinction between what we now know as “Africa” and the so-called “ Middle East,” as they were both part of a vast Black empire. Over 2000 years ago the Greek historian and philosopher Strabo informed us that Ethiopia—which was known as Kush—included the body of land that currently occupies the Arabian peninsula. He says this in his book The Geography: Book One, Chapter 2.

A peninsula is a body of land that is surrounded by water on three sides while attached to a larger landmass. The Arabian peninsula is clearly attached to Africa. Although culturally diverse, both Africa and the so-called “Middle East,” were home to Black people who look no different from those walking the streets of Crenshaw, Los Angeles or Flatbush, Brooklyn today.

Nevertheless, it should be duly noted that although the DESIGNATION of “Middle East” is a cultural innovation of imperialist colonizers, the same is the case with the designation of The Motherland as “Africa.” The men and women of ancient Ta Seti, Kemet, Sumer, or even the Nok people of West “Africa” did not refer to themselves as “Africans” based on the historical records handed down to us through the ages.

They appear to have viewed themselves as separate, autonomous NATIONS that engaged one another in trade and shared similar cultural ideas. However, if there was a uniform, continental name that these ancient Blacks used to identify one another, it certainly was not “African,” for that too is a later construct.

It would be of great benefit to the reader if we briefly explored the origin of the name “Africa.” Some who qualify themselves as credible historians have said that the etymological root for the name “Africa” comes from the name Scipio Africanus, the Roman general who defeated Hannibal the Great of Carthage at the end of the second Punic War. This is emphatically INCORRECT.

This error is easily identified by the fact that “Scipio Africanus” was born as Publius Cornelius Scipio. You can confirm this for yourself by consulting Richard A Gabriel’s book Scipio Africanus: Rome’s Greatest General, among other works. I don’t care how confident or how charismatic a man sounds. You should not take his scholarship too seriously unless his work has been reviewed and qualified by his peers. I say this because you will not have a barometer, a reliable standard to go by, if you are a new student who is trying to determine who is actually qualified to speak on subject matter that is of importance to you.

                                          Hannibal Barca

Some people mean well and add value, but are not strong in certain areas of study. Others are losers in real life and just want to be seen and have followers. The thought that you will eventually become well-learned and not rely on them for information is a scary thought that haunts them day and night. It’s one thing for a guy to upload a video to YouTube where he talks loud, sounding arrogant and intentionally disrespectful. However, being well-learned and properly informed doesn’t necessarily entail those qualities. In most cases, it actually defies them. 

Read more books, and watch less lectures. Reading structures your mind for critical thinking in ways that even the best lectures cannot. But even books, blogs, and journals are secondary. Go inside of yourself for the big answers while using external tools for assistance.  Old family members who are eager to share family history with you are invaluable human resources for those seeking knowledge of SELF. If you still have such people in your life and can reach them, then you are blessed. No one that I have taught follows me. They’re too busy living life, finding their own voice and teaching in their own unique ways based on the new understanding they've acquired.

National identity has importance. Before any group of people can have a national identity that is clear, strong, and vibrant, they must share the same core ideas and values. A large group of people, whether they are a secret society, a street gang, or a nation, are bound together by common core values. The medium in which these values are primarily preserved is through language which serves as a bedrock for culture. The people of France are called “French” based on the language that they speak. The people of China are identified as “Chinese” based on the fact that they speak a mother tongue that reinforces their collective psychology for the preservation of common values. For them, this language is called “Chinese.”

To the brothers and sisters who say that the word “Moor” originally came from white Europeans I ask you what was the language spoken by the ancient people who occupied modern day Burkina Faso and its neighboring regions? You do understand that there were several Moors who Gentrified Europe during the medieval period who were not Moroccan, and were in fact from other parts of what we call West Africa, right? You do know that many of these Moors were not actually Islamic but gave off an Islamic, and in some cases, a Christian veneer for both political and economic reasons, right?

To appreciate what I’m getting at you have to have an internal understanding of culture that is not always transmitted through books, blogs and videos. And no, I’ve NEVER been a follower of Noble Drew Ali or the Moorish Science Temple. However, I have had a strong  internal  connection with the Moorish legacy of old Europe before I was even reading and writing down my own thoughts. That legacy is a part of me. Fuck all of your half-assed rhetoric. Ive digressed. Let’s progress together by getting back on topic.

Scipio was only given the nickname “Africanus” after he defeated Hannibal Barca. The name “Africa” is actually based on the the Romanization of the Numidian “Afri” people. They were just one of the clans that the ancient Romans encountered during their sojourns into ancient Numidia, which is not to be confused with ancient Nubia.

The Afri lived in, and around, ancient Carthage. The Romans were so in awe of Hannibal’s military prowess that they named their own general Scipio “Africanus.” For the Romans, the name had become synonymous with the fierce Afri warriors that they took great pride in defeating by the skin of their teeth. In European literature Scipio is referred to as “The Roman Hannibal.” This strongly suggests that his only historical relevance arises out of the fact that he defeated Hannibal the Great to end the second Punic War.

Scipio is only important to the extent that his legacy is linked to Hannibal’s. The ancient Romans were telling the world that their general was so brave and so calculating that he might as well be an Africanus, or what we would now call an “African.” The word “African” is the Anglicized version of the Latinized word “Africanus” which was originally derived from the Afri people who lived in and around Carthage.

Africa was NOT named after a Roman general. It was named after a relatively small native clan who lived in the region of Carthage who called themselves Afri. The decision to identify the entire continent based on the name for these local people was made by European colonizers. No doubt. But that’s different from saying that the name originated with Europeans. If Chinese colonizers decided to rename the entire continent “GHANAlù” tomorrow it doesn’t mean that the name “GHANA” came from them. It means that they merely added their suffix to the indigenous name of a historically localized people and applied that name to an entire continent.

Nevertheless, we need to keep in mind that Carthage (now a part of Tunisia) is just one small region within the vast continent that the world now calls “Africa.” Although I could be wrong, I seriously doubt that the Zulus of 3000 B.C.E. referred to themselves as “Afri” while living at least 4,000 miles South of North Africa where the Afri resided. The Sumerians, who were Black, did not call themselves Afri either. Furthermore, if we look at Iraq on a map, an argument can be made that it is just as much a part of East Africa as it is Western Asia as far as geography goes. Sumer was located in what is today known as Iraq. This leads to other questions about land designation that I, and/or another researcher, may choose to explore at a later time. 

In the meantime, please understand that when I make reference to the “African origin” of ancient Sumer I am only using a contemporary term (that term being “African”) that is commonly understood and recognized by even the most casual readers of my 2013 interview. I wholly acknowledge the land now designated as “Africa” to be the ethno-cultural starting point for ancient Sumerian civilization, which thrived thousands of years before Black men and women identified themselves as “African” through any continental consensus.

As far as I am aware, there is no ancient written record or text that proves that Black men and women throughout the continent decided to uniformly identify themselves as “Africans” before the continent was carved up and divided among its European invaders. This is because they all had national identities rooted in culture and reinforced by language. Only these preserved written records—provided that they even exist—will  serve as verifiable sources of reference in any assertions to the contrary. Then again, would these records even be written in a mother language that is understood, authenticated, and venerated by all of the nations it pertains to? At the moment, I do not have a definitive answer to this question.

Communication is most effective when we use words and terms that can be easily identified and codified by those who receive our message. We should share information with our audience that will expand its scope of understanding. Still we can only do that after we’ve gotten our audience’s attention by using words and concepts that they are already familiar with. In other words, you must reach people where they are at before you take them where they’re striving to go. With that understanding, I decided to title my offering “The African Origins of Ancient Sumerian Civilization.”

It’s unfortunate that many Black people assume that various words come from Europeans just because they cannot trace the origin of those words back to a stellae from ancient Kemet. Kemet was beautiful. It was amazing. In many ways it was the crystallization of traditional African values. However there are many answers to the question of who you are that cannot be found there. As a result, the search continues: throughout the continent, throughout the globe, throughout the solar system and the universe. You have no beginning or ending. Your soul’s seed occupies a moment that knows no circumference, hence that moment is eternal and so are you.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Ras Joseph Spice and The Singers & Players of Instruments present...Green Trees

Nearly 40 years ago my dad and his band, Singers & Players of Instruments (Psalm 87:7), came together to express a common vision through the magnanimous gift of reggae music.

The 9 songs recorded before my birth included contributions from the legendary saxophonist, Roland Alphonso of The Skatalites and extraordinary lead vocalist Ras Joseph Spice. The music that they made alongside writer, Natty B, and bass guitarist and arranger, Horace Finlater, was thought to be lost forever. However, it has been rediscovered and remastered for the world’s listening pleasure.

When my dad Horace shared the news with me earlier this week I was excited, and that feeling has only intensified. At a time when the world needs more music that conveys beauty through a resounding message of hope and good will, these 9 jewels were recorded in the 1970s, but made for 2016. What would seem to be late to some, is actually right on time.

I’m sharing one of the tracks entitled “Green Trees” with you below via a video I put together myself. I heard the song for the very first time that I can recall, on Tuesday (It was probably playing in the house when I was a very young child and I just don’t remember). There is more music and information to come. In the meantime, let me know what you think of the song. My email address is Peace.

Friday, September 4, 2015

A.A. Rashid Presents: The Blackest Bible You Never Seen

If 24 hours separates an intellectual paradise from an ecclesiastical purgatory, then The Blackest Bible You Never Seen is a Day Up from hell.

Heaven is a relative state of mind, and in his latest E-Lecture the Qabala god, A.A. Rashid, escorts his viewing audience through the pearly gates of understanding with contagious passion and ideological conviction.

“What is the African American experience regarding his initiation?” Rashid rhetorically asks his audience during his July 11th  lecture in Houston, Texas. “Where does he go to become a man? Every other culture in the world has an initiation. You go to the Twa people—who are colloquially called the pygmies—they still have a ritual where they initiate the young men for five months.

Do you know what that is? A lot of us can’t even do nothing for two hours straight. You tell someone to sit down and read for two hours straight, or turn your phone off and just shut up, a lot of people would have a problem with that…What is the culture of the African American? Where are our initiations? The African American experience is profound. You were manufactured as part of a commercial construct. It is very interesting that you are still here existing with pride.”

In this video presentation Rashid extrapolates on one of his most consistent messages to his growing following in recent years, which is that all of the ancient expressions of collective cultural psychology—which many of us call religions—can address the inherent needs of Africans throughout the diaspora. According to Rashid, this requires that the signs and symbols of these philosophical models are processed by the individual so as to ensure collective prosperity in all avenues of human endeavor.   

“How you perceive yourself [determines] your mental health,” says the Red House founder, and Freemason, who advocates joining societies with secrets. “You live in your thoughts. The Blackest Bible You Never Seen requires that you and I challenge every letter, every world, inside the [literary] construct to find the best modalities to use in any religion. You should all participate in learning all religions because it gives you a narrative to deal with every single culture in the world.”

Rashid is an interesting figure. He is a man, who over the course of his lecturing career, has ubiquitously lived his life in between the pillars of mercy and severity. He has the introverted mental framework of the brooding intellectual and the shaman.  However, he exhibits an uncanny ability to speak to large audiences in the idiom of the street, or the Ivy League lecture hall in an extroverted way.

“The young people are the ones who bring your brother out [to lecture],” says Rashid in front of his lecture podium in Houston. “I have to talk nice, and be nice to the elders, ‘hotep’ them and put on dashikis to get them to pull brother Rashid out. But the young people get it because they can look past all of the vestigial elements because they are strivers. They not hatin’ sitting back waiting for you to make a mistake. They lookin’ to get game so that they can take it and run with it. Young people keep me relevant. I got young people at Ralph Lauren who are designing the stuff these negroes are going to wear for the next three years in our school. There are young people at Apple, designing apps and all that. Brothers and sisters all over the world, Africa, everywhere, who are paying attention to what we are doing. You're an exceptional person if youve ever even heard of me, because there are so many chambers to get to just to get to mine. ” 

Within Rashid’s two extremes there are many mindscapes of hidden potential, which may explain why he is actually expanding in his creative breadth at 40 years of age, a time when many other men are past their artistic prime. Rashid, who told me that he just started rapping about three years ago, has recorded impressive hip hop tracks like “Fard Fila,” and “Randy Savage” while producing imaginative graphic artwork to promote his merchandise and social events.

His latest offering, The Blackest Bible You Never Seen, is a valuable addition to the video library of longtime students, and a formidable introduction for new ones who have grown weary of conspiracy laden narratives and are in search of practical applications for personal empowerment.

To contact A.A. Rashid about obtaining his lectures, music, books, and rare African American cultural memorabilia, you can email him at For further information concerning his work, you can also find him on YouTube through his Red House channel.