MARCH 2nd 2012 Opener for Jack Preston & The dojo collective.  Apache Cafe. Atlanta GA

Awesome comics are my saving grace. I checked out Stranger Comic’s The Untamed. 1st issue is free on Graphicly  . The rest you can read right online or download for a buck.

Foo’s breakdown:a pitch black hearted man dies & comes back to his former birthplace, accepting the hospitality of an old souled young girl who shows him kindness. Everyone else , he’s kickin @$$ and takin names. Read it Read it. I’m not doing a good job – its 2:30 in the morning and i’m out of my head. The art gets better as the series goes on. The 1st issue feels like you’re reading a mosaic of fine art.Simple, chunky, thick like a haze of history. Then it starts forming into a dark & sinister HBO ye olde mash em up series; where you feel the characters should be cussing your name and you’d want to wash your feet from all the grit it kicks out on your living room floor.

Better reviews than mine

on Ifanboy

I’m not sure why, but reading their stuff makes me want Halloween to happen more than once a year. Maybe i’m a closet cosplayer . [ heh] Unfortunately, I’m a bit lazy with it comes to making costumes. I would however , dress up as a few of stranger comic’s characters [ non Ogre of course ] if i A- had spare ends to spend on ears & brass bras n so on [ not cheap yal] and maybe did those crunches i said i’d do every day. But if you’re a lover of Fantasy, you’ll dig their stuff. Also The Portent is up there too. To be honest, i’d not read a word. I’ve been too obsessed with the art. I love the color pallet. Reminds me of Mignola’s  hellboy  meets a French colorist.
Good stuffs ahead.

- foo

I like when cool things happen. Nifkin is a Swedish producer who sampled my vox from starchild to make this awesome 2 step minimal track. I would coast to this if i were a flotation device . So we’re gonna try n make more music together. See what happens.

If you think about your mind like a computer and your body the peripherals, its very easy to consider that with the wrong kind of programming, You can get caught in glitches, negative feedback loops, tragedy after tragedy. Not to get all ” Secret” on it and insisting that bed things happen to people who think bad thoughts. But more that, if you can’t see the possibility of positive change, it makes it harder to get positive change. Like looking for someone and you have no idea what they look like.

I’m trying not to take things personally. Or not so desirable things that happen, try not to make it out as a personal attack. But more, an opportunity to think differently and perhaps see patterns that may be causing the same situations to reoccur. Take a lil accountability for my part in the process.

You know, fix the bad programming & reboot. Weed out logical fallacy i may hold. Get out of my own way. Hack your brain. Unplug from the matrix.

In Honor of Black history month, I’d like to say that i cannot claim that the accomplishments of creators, inventors, farmers, scientist, writers, fighters and pioneers etc , are MY accomplishments just because I’m black. It simply means that just because i AM black , that does not mean i am exempt from the opportunity for great things. They did great things in the face of terrible times and much less opportunity. I have no excuse for creating less than the new wonders of the world. – Dr.Foo

January 30, 2012 By Martha Cornog

While an increasing number of kids’ comics have been featuring ethnically diverse characters in stories set in the recent past, we note on this year’s list of forthcoming, recent, and backlist titles in celebration of African American History Month (February) several significant academic works that ground black comics in history and culture. READ MORE

Cover By Afua Richardson.

Co-editors Tom Pomplun and Lance Tooks discuss the work behind their new book, African-American Classics, which features the works of Afua Richardson, Trevor von Eeden, Jeremy Love, Christopher Priest, and many others.

Read Full Article Here

Right now, Right here. This is what we have. Each breath. Each second. It is the only thing certain. We can hope and imagine, love, hate, journey, and create. Some of those creations will out live us. Plans are constructs from the hopes of certainty that we , as humans can only cross our fingers to be witness to. Weather painful or profound, this moment is a gift with no tags on the box.

-Dr. Foo on the human condition.

I couldn’t tell you what time of year it was.

Only that i was still in high school, hop hop still breathed , and I was in the thick of it. Puff Daddy had just opened a restaurant up the block. We’d never go in. We couldn’t see ourselves paying that much for steak. I think Mike Tyson had JUST gotten that tattoo on his face and was walking from Justin’s. But we weren’t concerned with that.

A member of my all female hip hop crew, the Anomolies, had just won an MC competition with the skills of the razor tongued Mistress of Ceremony : Pri, the honey dark.

We poured out into the Night air , buzzing with pride. Swarming around The pillar of a man we know as KRS-1. As always, whenever wordsmiths swing their swords, the others want to battle number one. We took our places in the circle and bopped our heads like waves against the peir. You could smell the Hudson. Around 6th ave there was a straight away to the River. The Ozone made the night crisp. I walked up to front to get in on the next round.

” Let her take the mic let her take the mic” voices around shouted out.”

” Naw, “.. i said ” I’m gonna drop the beat.

Kris swung around. ” You’re a Female BEAT BOX??” his voice was so similar to how he rhymed i almost thought he was breaking into verse. It was like a slightly muted lion. Booming I’m sure from the years of battling and performing.

I licked my lips ” yeah”

i started up like a turntablist starts a record. then dropped a bass line thick and heavy. snares hi hats through my teeth. mumbling a melody through pursed lips.

He started rhyming. It was like listening in on a live recording. Heads bopped harder. I thought they’d break something. For a moment i was so proud to be exactly where i was. All nationalities, all backgrounds, united, rolling back n forth like monks on DMT. Hands waving as if to keep the cipher cupped in a perfect bowl. Lyricist carving the air with metaphors.

It was perfect.

Dr. Foo– out.