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A Little Bit of Me




Some believe that our times are ominous. Had I not obtained the privilege of entering the portal to antiquity, I would have been led to believe the same. I should explain what I mean by “portal to antiquity,” as it requires an imagination on steroids to comprehend. Nonetheless, I will provide the key to this portal for those willing to insert elasticity in their thinking to indulge the process.


The Key


I will be as accurate as possible and separate intelligence from wisdom. Intelligence requires one to acquire knowledge. Some believe that the more they possess, the more intelligent they will become. Wisdom requires an ability to observe intelligence in action enough times to make a smart decision about it. Back in the day, some of my elders spoke of “the educated fool.” They believed that making jokes about those in this category, educated fools, was a form of entertainment. I was only a child then, but “educated fool” became relevant later. One day, I was thinking about the importance of TRUTH. This thought was precipitated by something I was told as a child. “Johnny, always tell the truth, regardless of the outcome.” “Love not your body more than your soul.” As a little boy, TRUTH was my default mentality. I was ridiculed once in the big world about it, I mean the truth.


I noticed a difference in people's thinking once I joined the Marine Corps. Fellow Marines would ask each other questions about their families, where they lived, etc. I noticed that most black guys would say they were from big cities, like New York, Phili, Chicago, etc. They asked me about my hometown, and I told them I lived on Cabin Creek in a little coal-mining town called Carbon in West Virginia. Everyone in the room started laughing. I did not get it. Later, I found that most of them lived in small towns. Later, I called them out on it. From that point, they named me The Good Head, the most honest guy in the world. They thought it was funny, but I enjoyed them calling me that name.


I have been clear minded about the value of truth. The wisdom of this enormous treasure leads me to a never-ending search into my past. It started with parsing the words of my known ancestors and associating them with wording from other documents of yore. I was aware of my grandfather being one of the souls brought over on an illegal slave ship after slavery had concluded. I also understood that my grandmother on this same side of the family was Creek Native American. She always talked about the Trail of Tears, for which I knew nothing then.


Although my mother’s parents were not slaves, they were from slave lineage. My mother would not speak as harshly about slavery as my father did. She spoke of her grandmother as “one,” as she described it. She would start saying that her slave masters were not as cruel as “others,” she would exclaim. Then, she would tell us the sorrowful story about how her grandmother watched her sister being hauled away and chained in a wagon. She was sold to some very mean people, she would say. She would then start crying. We would all cry! I am crying right now, to be honest.


We all have different experiences. Mine is unique, indeed. Thankfully, the many conversations held before a coal-burning fireplace back in the hills of West Virginia have led me to my ancestors across the globe. I have found that many doors open once one endeavors to know him or herself. Lies may have tainted some, but the truth lies in how we perceive life and what happens afterward. I discovered that people in my genetic pool valued the afterlife more so than their state of living. To them, a lie was an abomination to God. They believed in the 42 admissions of Ma’at created thousands of years before the Christian era. BCE.


After reading the forty-two admissions of Ma’at, a door opened, leading me to learn some of the Coptic language. I was then compelled to learn to read hieroglyphics. I read the Papyrus of Ani, The Greenfield Papyrus, and any other ancient inscriptions I could obtain. The door flew wide open! Now, I possess the most valuable information available. This is how I received my key to the past.


Curses from The Tombs


Whenever I hear people unfamiliar with the people of Kemet talk about curses and Idolatry, I laugh. I am sure that Sheik Anta Diop would also laugh. The irony is that it is hilarious once one has the key. Our ancestors were brilliant! Their Soothsayers, or Charmen, could predict our futures and the climates we would be exposed to. They were so wise until they were able to insert into our genes the extraordinary energy to not only endure slavery for a season but also much more to list than this document can sustain. They understood that their tombs would be raided. They already knew that stories about them in their futures would be distorted. This is the reason that they built great monuments for their afterlife. If one is cursed, the curse is self-induced. The ancient people of Kemet understood that when their tombs were raided and unsealed, the world would see and know their identity, thereby exposing the many lies that have been told about them. They understood that when planet Earth unveiled their identity, some would view it as a curse.


Read the papyri… We are now experiencing a change in basic assumptions, and some are so misinformed that they still believe that all they need to do is change the history books. Let us see! Time is an excellent arbiter of truth.

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