Category Archives: raw veganism

Raw Okra Stew

Here is my first attempt at putting a recipe into written words:

Raw Okra Stew

All ingredients are fresh raw from the produce stand or farmer’s market!

Chop up:

Buncha Okra (like 2-4 handfuls)

Two Cucumbers

Buncha Spinach

Red Bell Peppers

(you can add or subtract whatever base veggies you want here. Tomatoes, celery, carrots, asparagus, you name it.)

Blend:

Like three or four nice tomatoes

Thumb or two of ginger

A red onion if you’re down with that

One or two habañeros (Jamaican hot peppers) because I like it hot! It’s raw but it ain’t bland son. I’m still Nigerian.

A few basil or cilantro leaves if you like

A red bell pepper

Two or three sticks of celery.

Do:

Rinse everything well.

Get a big-ass bowl.

Chop everything in the chop category into fine chunks the size of the ends of your pinkies.

Put it in the bowl.

Then blend everything in the blend category.

Pour that into the bowl.

Mix all the contents of the bowl for a few minutes until the soup is thickened into a slimy consistency by the Okra. Mix it well!

Eat.

Try this one y’all Afrikan vegans and others out there staying raw and healthy. Let me know how you like this. This is one of my main dinner dishes. I love this.

Rolling

Folks want to pick my brain, so I am back. It’s been exactly one year since the last post. I’ve been keeping it low fat raw vegan all the while, doing Afrikan and Nigerian-style recipes for dinner, eating mostly simple, affordable staples like bananas, apples and oranges by day. There are several topics I’m going to touch upon very soon: physical culture and functional fitness, raw veganism and the environment, recipes, and some other things.

Briefly in terms of progression, since I first became a raw vegan two and a quarter years ago, my diet has steadily become a lot more simple and less exotic, besides much lower in fat in the past year. I haven’t eaten nuts in over a year, and have not been to a raw vegan restaurant in the same time span. No durians, no cashews, no cacao, no goji berries. Avocados like once a month. I don’t even eat dates anymore because they’re so damn expensive, especially when I can get like ten pounds of bananas for the price of one pound of dates. Nowadays it’s mostly about spinach, bananas, tomatoes, oranges, okra soups, zucchini pastas, basil and ginger flavored sauces, and so on. So I’ve moved away from so-called “superfoods” and other exotic things. My diet is very pedestrian at this point, the way I like it, and my health is robust. Maybe I’ll progress further in the future towards liquidarianism or something, ala Jericho Sunfire. When I became vegan ten and a half years ago as young teenager I wouldn’t have dreamed of becoming a raw vegan, so who knows? I’ma just keep evolving, getting wiser and stronger.

I vouch for the fruitarian/ low fat raw vegan lifeway. It is easy, it keeps one healthy and vibrant and with a clear smooth complexion and high energy. As a strength athlete I attest that, with resistance exercise, one will have no problem putting on muscle and maintaining tone, definition, or even bulk. This diet is excellent for all natural athletes and even body builders. It is practical because you can find your raw materials in any produce section of almost any grocery or farmer’s market. All raw folks, I encourage y’all to stay raw. To those new to it, begin. Have no doubt and be disciplined.

More later.

Doubts about Being in the North

I am increasingly of the thought for some reason that I ought to head south, urgently. Obviously I expect down the line to be living in Afrika, and possibly Latin America too, for at least a few years, probably when I’m in my thirties. For now I am a student in NYC, where I’ve mostly been all my life except for half a year in West Afrika, including a semester at U of Ghana and time in my ancestral, embattled, yet beautiful homeland, the Niger Delta. My line of thought of late has been one of general concern that winters truly aren’t for me. And if I could I wouldn’t deal with one more of them in this life.

Interestingly, I don’t do bad in cold weather per se. I actually do much better than most people of any skin color. And I’m a very lean and very very dark skinned Afrikan brotha. Dark like any of the most deeply West Afrikan indigenes which is what I am, 100% Kalabari-Ijaw, supremely black and natively equatorial. I like humid weather which I get here in the region of NY Harbor, a characteristic which is climatically very similar to southern and especially southeast (AKA “south-south”) Nigeria. If not for massive urbanization these climes support a historic dense woodland, a tiny fragment of which is preserved in a little forest down my Jersey street. Even Manhattan (Manahatta) was once all woods, not just parts of Central or Inwood Hill Parks. So I am happy with regular precipitation throughout the year.

But I wonder if I’m built for this latitude. Obviously I can withstand it, 40 degrees and change North of the equator, that wonderful band near where all dark skinned peoples evolved to deflect excess UV radiation and enjoy proper sunlight levels to stimulate vitamin D production and stay functional and beautiful. But as I move into an even more intense and dedicated level of raw veganism/ fruitarianism (I’ve been 100% vegan since summer 1999, 80% raw since Oct. ’07, and 100% raw for a year now, and at this point I’m ditching nuts, strictly eating fresh organic fruits and green vegetables only, and I take no supplements whatsoever for anything) I worry of not getting enough sun in these NYC winters.

When I went to Ghana in ’07, I completely skipped winter for that year. I came back to NYC in the summer and went almost a year with mild to hot weather and plenty of sunshine. I now realize that I REALLY LIKED THAT. My body liked that move supremely. I was outdoors all the time in Ghana, even more than some Ghanaians who thought I was a little strange for insistently walking everywhere, even under equatorial noon sun. That equatorial hot 90 degree F noon sun, I increasingly am accepting truly, must be correct for me.

Last winter I didn’t think about this issue that much, but now it’s really on my mind. Almost half of Afrikans living in North America are Vitamin D deficient. Vitamin D is responsible for proper bone growth, immune function, metabolism, mineral utilization, and so much more. A recent resurgence in rickets in the US struck Afrikan children almost exclusively. The colon cancer epidemic among Afrikan males in the US is at least partly related to vitamin D deficiency. And I know that, although I do not and never have suffered from seasonal affective disorder, my direct experience of almost a year of summer was awesome – on a physiological level and possibly even on a psychological one.

Our melanin across indigenous human populations has adapted over tens of millennia to the amount of UV radiation exposure based on distance from the equator, where all the most deeply pigmented populations are indigenous. I am beginning to intuit in my innermost consciousness that the truth is, I am up to 40 degrees from home. I am really thinking about moving to the tropics ASAP – Florida? – at least until I’m ready, after completing certain studies and preparing myself economically, to dwell south of the border long-term. In the meantime, I am also putting myself on the lookout for serious UV sunlamps/ full spectrum vitamin D-stimulating lamps which, at their expense, will be costly for this young student of modest means.

Ideally though, I ought to be spending mad time outdoors in the tropics in the sun exercising and sunbathing and doing other activities on a daily basis, as nature intended, away from the trappings of these computers and other pulls of indoor life, including winters and cold springs and autumns which I am not physiologically indigenous to. I am way too black for winters. And NYC’s winters are admittedly rather mild compared to the icy lunacy Afrikans go through in Chicago or Detroit.

But I still would prefer at least to be on the tropical edge of North America, if not right up in an equator-straddling country. I hear really ridiculous things about Florida though. For intellectual and sensitive people in North America, it seems the Northeast, from Washington to Boston, is king. And NYC is right in the heart of that. And the history of amazing Afrikan struggles and accomplishments in this part of the continent is astounding. And Afrikan communities here are of immense potential to be organized in a revolutionary fashion (my MA thesis was on New York as a Pan-Afrikan City, after all).

Yet I think I will easily leave this behind once I am ready. I know I almost surely never want to visit Europe again – even summers are barely mild in some spots there. Same goes increasingly for the northern latitudes of the United Snakes. I want that hot sun! Humid, sticky, boiling, searing! It’s good for my jet-black skin and my brown eyes. And to get out of the urban jungle would be a much appreciated bonus, as important perhaps for psychological well-being as going where it’s sunnier.

To think that, where I currently live, amidst a large South Asian/ desi population, all these folks are now in this northern latitude – it’s no wonder that diabetes and cancer are exploding among Asian populations in NYC – it’s not just the adoption of sad American diets and sedentary lifestyles – perhaps it’s distance from the climes of tropical India too!

Meanwhile, let me find an expensive full-spectrum UVB sunlamp to prop up in my corner. But one day soon, I will be ready to settle down in the tropics for good and live seriously naturally – access to big tropical fruits all the time, touching the land and planting trees, outdoors ALL THE TIME, getting hot and staying black.

Don’t get me wrong – one may leave the NJ/NYC, but the NJ/NYC never leaves the person. If/ when I do leave there will be many places and faces missed, like my Kung Fu temple and family, my elders from Newark to  Brooklyn, my young comrades across the urban jungle. Gotham forever!

These have been some thoughts about the Sun. To the mighty mighty Sun I bow.

Food Security and the Last Billion

atakpame-1983Yesterday, Jacques Diouf, Director-General of the Food and Agriculture Administration, complained that this year, due to the global food crisis, an additional 40 million humans are joining the ranks of the chronically food insecure around the world, and the total for the seriously at-risk is now at least about 963 million. About 1 billion around the world are now at dire imminent risk of starvation and debilitating malnutrition. Needless to say, Afrikan countries, most run by anti-Afrikan, indeed anti-human kleptocrats and neo-colonialists, serve up some of the highest numbers. Likewise for India, China, and elsewhere in the third world.

Perhaps in the wake of the urgency with which Mr. Diouf testified to the UN’s food agency, now may be a time to muse about the implications of our individual eating habits on global ecology and food security. In what I’ve learned of agronomy, it seems vegetarianism is the most ecologically sustainable diet that human populations can pursue. Even in rural settings, runaway grazing eats up land and depletes its moisture carrying capacity far more quickly than even conventional mono-crop rearing. Eating fruits and using herbs from the forest – minimally invasive in practice – seems like the total opposite of grazing, factory farming, and other practices that have led to extreme deforestation and desertification, including the misguided steps being taken in Indonesia, Malaysia, and elsewhere to convert old-growth broad-leaf rainforest into vast groves of palm oil for bio-fuel export.

I think the Afrikan that moves away from meat is making a profound move. Not only is it in pursuit of the primal health colored folks will need to fight imperialism and neo-colonialism and establish a united Afrika serving and enriching the lives of Afrikans, but it is also an engagement with the carrying capacity of the Earth, and an acknowledgment of the delicate balance needed for the planet to replenish itself. It suggests we are willing to share and allow what the Earth can bountifully give to us, so long as we don’t take in excess and destroy the ecosystem in the process. It is well documented how much more water, land, food and fuel inputs are needed for even modest styles of animal husbandry to feed one individual, compared to inputs needed to feed one person through plant-based means only. At one extreme is factory farming and agribusiness that rapes the Earth without recourse to the least iota of moral restraint, and on the other, I think, the Afrikan moving towards serious raw veganism.

It is a move for the zealots, most will probably conclude. So be it. It tastes good and at least we know we are on Earth’s side, custodians of ecological sustainability and food security, because of our dietary choices. Already there is enough food to feed the world’s population, just that it’s concentrated in granaries in the West, and its potential to be utilized sensibly in Afrika is thwarted by cash-crop export economies, political instability, pollution, war, runaway urbanization, land privatization and land misuse. How much more could the ability to feed the world be expanded if less of us opt for the most wasteful land-use patterns by going for the meat, especially the factory-farmed meat?

Not that the millennium development goals are worth a damn beyond their pretty letters on conscience-appeasing paper, but if we want to take Mr. Diouff’s grievances seriously and consider how we can contribute to food security, even if rather indirectly, perhaps more of us should consider putting the meat down. This is just a microscopic baby-step into being a bit more mindful of the planet and all its resources we usurp to feed us, given the choices we make, even in diet. We haven’t even begun to discuss the fundamental problem of parasitic capitalism and its imposition of hunger, ignorance, land theft, and wretchedness on the “developing” world.

Don’t you get tired of it being the 21st century and black folks (and Asians, Indigenous folk and Latin Americans too) are still starving, still part of the last billion?

Hands-on Avocados

Rushing around Gotham in the mornings, between classes and martial arts sessions and trying to be home for a minute to do less than something, I find a produce vendor on the street – and this man, somewhere on 7th Ave in the 20s, sells the ripest avocados I can find. $1.50 a piece. I pick one up. I buy a few bananas, an apple, a Haitian mango. And a couple big navel oranges. Then I turn up the corner back to school. All the bananas are already eaten by the end of the two minute walk from the vendor to the door of the building.

Yellow peels in hand, I notice our slow-ass elevator lingering up at the seventh floor, so I just walk up to the fifth floor where I can eat and get dirty in that otherwise clinically sterilized environment. Impatient with the slow mechanical lift I rely on my own legs for the flight. I make it up to the fifth floor in no time, and barely winded.

I duck into the men’s room to wash my goodies really quickly. Others look at me curiously, but I don’t care. I haven’t eaten yet, and this morning I was working on Spring Leg No. 4 at the WuSu temple, and I only have twenty minutes during anatomy lecture break to eat all this shit. And I want that avocado the most. I need that filling fatty green fleshy goodness to lubricate and fuel my systems.

All I have is a bunch of napkins from the bathroom. How will I access the cream in this avocado with no silverware or bowl?

I look around. I retreat back into my own mind and see if there are any ingenuity neurons firing around in there. Ahah! I notice one in there, telling me to just use the tools I was born with…

So I start from the narrow top of the pear-shaped avocado with my thumb. I peel off the skin, letting my right thumb part the alligator-like covering from the fresh green flesh – and I get it all off in one piece in about 45 seconds or less.

Others be observing. I’m happy. I got green stuff on my hands and I’m biting into the creamy dreamy avocado flesh. Having consumed the meat, I suck the pit, lick some flesh off my fingers, and move on to the next fruity victim. I’m getting a good breakfast here, y’all.Whatchu care ’bout this young strange Afrikan peeling the skin off avocados like he was born with them in his lap, while y’all is eating unhealthy biscuits and sheeit?

And I eats my Haitian mango like an apple, consuming the skin and everything, and yellow mango juice going everywhere. I can get down with my fruits, and ain’t nothing anyone can do about it, son.

I thank my now advanced avocado-peeling skills to a week of practice. Everyone should try peeling avocados like that, and then just bite into the green fatty goodness like they were meant to.

Word up to my fruits and my wild raw vegans and fruitarians! We savor our healthy fruits like meatheads savor cruel artery-clogging steaks.

To Be Agronomic…

This is actually the only real physical book I took back with me from the classes I took at University of Ghana and Ashesi University in the Spring semester of 2007. This book is Managing Agrodiversity the Traditional Way edited by Edwin A. Gyasi – the professor of the course I took with him, Sustainable Agriculture in the Developing World – and Gordana KranjacBerisavljevic, Essie T. Blay, and William Oduro. This course, a graduate-level class in the Geography department at Legon, was only attended by three students that whole semester – two of us from America (including a white woman from Northern California) and a young Ghanaian woman. It’s troubling, at best, that matters of agronomy, food security, and sustainable land management are not attended to by more students, particularly right in Afrika. But I consider it to have been a great honor to have studied the contemporary thought around sustainable development with Prof. Gyasi.

That is the man himself, during our field trip to Aburi Hills, where we visited Ebua Danso’s farm, the one I mention three posts down, where organic agroforestry impressed the hell out of me and blew my mind. And Ebua Danso wasn’t a master, world-renowned organic Afrikan farmer because of something he learned in a Western-oriented agronomy program somewhere. He was simply reproducing the beautiful and effective methods of traditional, local farmers in Ghana and elsewhere in West Afrika. I come back to all this subject matter and these past events in my life as I reflect on being a raw vegan/ fruitarian, an Afrikan, and a revolutionary concerned with food security, sustainable and plentiful food production and transport, and justice. Raw Vegans/ fruitarians like me eat a lot of tropical fruits and nuts. Bananas produced for the Bonita, Dole, and other big US corporations that maintain banana republics in Latin America – I eat them. I live in North Jersey, just outside NYC where I work and conduct all my business. And I enter the market and select all sorts of tropical fruits that were grown many thousands away, in the very tropics I am native to (and would probably rather be most of the time). If the Afrikan situation was correct, I would be there today with no looking back, doing work, being free, eating right off the land and most likely growing most of my own food. I know activists here in NYC that want to do something like establish organic herbal gardens in Cameroon which will grow medicinal herbs to be exported to the US. Yet the cost of such transport, and the relationship of cash-cropism – an economic practice I approach with some ire – might not be overturned in such an arrangement.

It is likely very impractical to imagine, at this point, a world which, in concern for the pollution and waste of intercontinental food trading – and realizing the injustice of cash-cropism imposed on the (tropical) third world by the (temperate) first world – moves to locovorism, where everyone is eating locally-grown whole foods. In New York state or New Jersey, what do we grow that I dig, apples? A lot of salad crops, yes? Many sorts of berries? Well, that is excellent and I eat the local varieties of those, and have visited apple farms in South Jersey, where I was impressed and felt my innate desire to be a rural, food-growing, simple-ass man, reinforced. But me, I eat a whole lot of tropical fruits. I eat citrus grown in Florida, avocados grown in California (as well as a lot of salad greens), pecans grown in Texas, as for this country. I eat avocados from Mexico, too, Ecuadorian bananas, Brazilian cashews, Chilean blueberries, Peruvian cacao beans, Canadian hemp-seed, Spanish unpasteurized almonds, even New Zealand Kiwis. And that’s certainly not all I eat. I feel concerned about being a non-locovore, a man eating from the global kitchen assembly line established long ago by European mercantilism and colonialism, the antecedents of contemporary cash-cropism. I don’t even eat fair-trade bananas (not even organic).

Does one like me just keep going this way? Agronomy is one of my many, many interests. I’m an urban-ass person, something I can’t apologize for because I was born into that, though I have friends who have moved on from that, and at least tried to dedicate more of their lives to agronomy and food security issues. In the meantime, I suppose we must be advocates for, aside from revolution, or in until its occurrence, clean-green-energy means of international shipping and sustainable locovorism to the extent that it is possible and practical. Surely those in cities and towns with land should say fuck a lawn, and grow food on their free land. Lawns are the invention of retards. Food security is undermined by lawns. Whenever I get a true place of my own, best believe I’ll be growing food on it like a hardcore farmer. But it could be the case, some day down the line, and within the context of repatriating, that I just move to the tropics, to Afrika, where everything grows, and grow durians, pineapples, avocados, mangos, oranges, cashews, cacao, and all that good shit, alongside other Afrikans, a beautiful sista, some little ones, sweating under the palms and sipping fresh juices by the sea (or in the valleys). Ah, to aspire to the good life…

On Medjool Dates

So today was interesting. Before attending a critical planning meeting with some elders, I scoped out a capoeira class which met in bourgeois-ass Soho. But they asses didn’t start on time, so I left. I hate lateness, have no tolerance for CP-time and what not. Matter of fact for the record I’ma say it twice: motherfuck CP-time!!! And of all things to start late, a martial arts class? My kung fu never ever starts late. And I’ve only been late once – last week in fact. Time is of the essence! You see that quote over to the right now – take heed. Discipline is sweet like desert blues; indiscipline is bitter like the evening news.

So with extra time to kill I rode my bike up them snow-plowed Manhattan streets and popped into Westerly Natural Market (on 54th and 8th), all trendy and organic and shit. But I doubt I’ll ever go there again – $5.39 for 4.4 ounces of organic blueberries? The fuck are they smoking? They got them trendy white liberal prices – yes. Nonetheless I picked up some organic medjool dates, which I never had until today. Ten bucks for 13 ounces of them – sheeit! I said fuck it, lemme try this.

I almost wanna say it’s like candy (in good ways).

I munched on the dates all day and finished them as my dinner. They really something, so sumptuous, of a most delicate texture, uniquely and profoundly stimulating to an Afrikan palate. In other words, they the shit. I probably won’t go after them too often. They was grown in California, why they cost so damn much? Their expensive price is strongly related to where I bought them, methinks.

Dates are very serious foods. Raw vegans/ fruitarians can have maad fun. It’s a shame I wasn’t introduced to that shit much earlier in life; people been growing dates for thousands of years (in Afrika!). The conventional household is full of such a limited selection of foods. But the curious and adventurous fruitarian almost never runs out of species to taste and flavors to enjoy.

We fruitarians are living in a world of plenty, in other words the real world. Everyone else is stuck in plastic meat trays and cardboard cereal boxes.

Raw Veganism in Afrika – Could be Ideal (?)

master13_1.jpgI think that the ecological and economic reasons for raw veganism, or even conventional veganism, make it one of the best diets for Afrikans on the continent. Most Afrikans have other ideas, and Afrika might be the continent with the least vegetarians, or at least the fewest conscious vegetarians. A lot of Afrikans see meat as a prestige. It was isolating being vegan in Afrika, and it made me think a lot about how I could spread vegetarianism there, even though I usually never operated as a vegan evangelist before. The sorts of classes I took in Ghana, on sustainable agriculture, women and development, and traditional medicine, all helped confirm for me that we need a vegan movement in Sub-Saharan Afrika. I feel we need to grow all sorts of great tropical fruits and vegetables for ourselves, and eat them. We must move away from cash-crop economies which leave us dependent on the West, and make us import their rotten meat, their subsidized rice, and so on.

 

It is winter in New York, my first winter in two years since last winter I was in Ghana. I have the profound sense of not only missing Afrika, but feeling like I really belong there. I find myself sunbathing almost religiously in this wintertime, since as a very very dark-skinned Afrikan I am supposed to be getting the amount of sunlight I would be getting in the tropics to generate the right amount of Vitamin D. I think I am doing well here because I just sit in the sun whenever it is sunny; I’m sitting in the sun right now. I LOVE THE SUN. I like hot weather. I like keeping my skin melanin-stimulated, dark, black, no matter what time of year or what weather. Raw veganism, fitness, and health all require maad sunlight and fresh air, especially for Afrikans.

 

If I was in Afrika right now, I would be eating maad mangos, Afrikan avocados (whose taste I didn’t allow myself to get used to as I am so accustomed to Mexican/ Californian avocados), maad greens, tomatoes, papayas, guavas, bananas, all the great tropical fruits. Maybe a few raw cashews or raw groundnuts. It would be so easy, as it’s all in the market and is maad affordable, at least to someone who has Western currency.

 

As Afrika moves towards holistic and self-contained economic and health development, perhaps we could begin to grow more of the superfoods of Asia and elsewhere in our vast, rich soils. We could start cultivating durians, certain types of berries, herbs, nuts and seeds. It would be sweet.

 

The practice of pastoralism, the grazing of cattle, sheep, etc., is scientifically proven to be an unsustainable way of life compared to settled agriculture, as the browsers eat away the grasses and help expand the Sahara and other deserts. The consumption of meat is scientifically proven to be able to feed far, far fewer humans than mass vegetarianism would. It consumes far, far more water resources, land, food even, to produce meat than to produce veggies. Our starvation could be stemmed with a lot more veganism, and a lot more macrobiotic, self-sufficient, self-feeding agriculture.

 

And tropical fruits are some of the most heavily relied on ones by raw vegans and fruitarians. Being actually in the tropics would mean easy access to, and ability to grow, our favorite foods.

 

If I return to Afrika, or move there (or to the Caribbean), I would get land and grow maad tropical fruits and veggies, keep the soil well nourished, make babies with a raw-vegan Afrikan beauty queen, practice and teach fitness and martial arts, eat raw vegan stuff, and live a long life as a revolutionary Afrikan renaissance man. I’d learn an Afrikan language, I’d be maad healthy, build an all-Afrikan bicycle factory powered by wind and solar, spread African Internationalism and socialism, etc. But that’s just crazy dreaming. Afrika is grossly underdeveloped and neo-colonized, though we must stand and fight.

 

I visited an organic farm in Aburi, Ghana (north of Accra) where the old Afrikan genius there practices sustainable agroforestry. He plants trees. He plants all sorts of fruits, greens, yams, etc. all around them. He was maad inspiring. The photo above is from his land, the photo below of his contact info. I could do that. I could live like that. We all could. “Make the world a garden…”

 

How I wonder. 

 

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Raw Veganism and Kung Fu

I think raw veganism is probably the best lifestyle for athletes. Check out a black fruitarian fitness trainer here, or here (these sites belong to Richard Blackman and his fruitarian fitness program) for further evidence. In my own experience in being a dedicated student of Kung Fu (Wu Shu) and a raw vegan, my endurance, flexibility, muscle strength, reaction speed, mental clarity, retention, and everything else important to excellence in martial arts, seem at their pinnacle according to the level of study I’m at. The martial artist must be flexible, must be quick on the feet. She must also be compassionate, humble, and straightforward. The artistry of Kung Fu is best expressed, it seems, in those who have moved away from the greed and anger associated with meat. It is also best delivered by those whose bodies are as clean, self-disciplined, and balanced as possible.

I imagine that great martial artists, great Kung Fu generals, also had excellent diets, and maybe some were even some sort of raw vegan, given the vegetarian Buddhist dietary principles followed by authentic monk soldiers. I’m down with that stuff. Living in self-discipline, being clean and healthy, training hard, stretching long, being super attentive, and in a spirit of brotherhood with one’s peers, and diligent humility before one’s teacher. And Kung Fu expresses a deep appreciation for the natural world and the ways and movements of animals, of insects, of birds, even of seasons. I always imagine practicing Kung Fu in great quiet alpine mountains, where it is said in the legends of Zen Buddhism that enlightened monks lived off nothing but berries and got around leaping over cliffs, living over 200 years. For now I live in Gotham City and ain’t going anywhere anytime soon. But the true Zen Masters always stressed that one should be in as complete a state of mindfulness and Zazen in a crowded and noisy market as they would be in the monestary or on a mountain. And it seems to me that one who imitates nature would be most successful to the degree that he leaves it ecologically unharmed as a compassionately meat-free, sustainably raw vegan.

I’ve been a vegan for nearly nine years, and have always been quite healthy. I’ve been a Kungfuista for over seven months and a raw vegan for the past three months, and have never felt healthier. I’m only 24, but I wish other young people could be living close to this experience. In Amerikkka these days, it’s even the young people now that are getting “old people’s” diseases and living sedentary, unhealthy, un-energetic, junk-food lives. I want to get into fasting in the near future to reach an even more serious level of purification, clarity, and energy. In the next few years, I definitely want to begin studying Capoeira as well (I’m too busy with other studies to commit to it right now). Especially as an Afrikan, I really want to master a discipline of my ancestors. And Capoeira acrobatics, and its aesthetics that I appreciate as a lover of dance, should complement the boxing and dancing of Kung Fu beautifully, enabling me to get into some mixed martial arts. Combining Capoeira, Kung Fu, raw veganism, and seasonal fasting should be extremely awesome. And I intend to be living in Kung Fu, raw veganism, and soon, Capoeira, for the rest of my life – raw veganism forever!

Self-discipline incessantly!

Martial arts never die!

I sit in the sun even during winter here in New York. I stay melanated at all times and get my vitamin D, my fresh air, my blameless long walks.

I’m Only Interested in People that Want to Live

Someone once said “let’s make the world a garden, not a graveyard.” It seems much of the world today, and for some time now, is fine with doing the latter.

There are many many forms of suicide:
smoking
drug use
bad eating
not exercising
negative attitudes
not confronting stress
anger
greed
hatred
violence

and so on.

There are many ways of not being alive:
willing zombification by mass-culture
delusion
mindlessness
sedentariness
laziness
being out of touch with nature
having unhealthy relationships
ignorance
dogma
narrow- and closed-mindedness

and so on.

I thrive on the energy of my being as much as it is in tune with all other things in existence. Nothing exists but through its relationship and interaction with other things. Consciousness, an expression of energy and electricity, best fires up off the act of being mindfully aware of all things in each consecutive moment of being. The lamp of mind is exponentially and immeasurably powerful and vast. The nourishment of mind from life itself, from what we consume (physically and intellectually) and how we live, is of greatest concern to me, as it should be to all humans and all sentient life for that matter. Do we want to live in complete awareness of what we do, or in distraction, in the clouds of emotions, fears, desires, stress, worries, etc.? I want to live. The clouds of distracted minds and mass delusion from society are not unlike death itself, for we lose full awareness of and control over our beings in states of delusion. And that’s no fun.

I’m interested in living. And I’m really only interested in other people that want to live. Those that want to propagate wars, pollute the planet, slaughter animals and humans by the millions for profit and gratification; those who want to exploit humans, land, and creatures down to a level of enslavement and domination in the name of capitalism – I don’t take an interest in them. Those that want to live like monsters and conquistadors, who measure their self-worth by their sexual and material conquests, do not interest me. The greedy, the vicious, the violent, the angry, the patriarchal and chauvinistic, the deluded, the brainwashed, the tribalistic, the corrupt, the exploitative, the hateful, the dishonest – they are as if dead already.

And I truly hate religion if this is what it sound like.

I just don’t have time for those busy making the world a graveyard. Even if it seems like most of the world is going down that road.

So the gardeners have to keep working harder and multiplying their numbers. The only world we have will only survive through gardening, not gravedigging.