“The Dreams”

ISSUE 1.0

WRITTEN BY: TIMOTHY 6X and KAREEM ABDULLAHARTWORK/GRAPHICS: TIMOTHY 6X

Chicago, IL—2:35 P.M.Chess match already in progress...

It happened again Dad.

What happened again? You messed up on a move and you want me to be merciful? No do overs!

Very funny. I think I got you this time. But thatʼs not what Iʼm talking about. Last night, when I went to sleep, I had those dreams again.

The oneʼs you were having a few months ago?

Yes sir. They keep coming back. Theyʼre more frequent now... and theyʼre getting pretty intense.

Donʼt be afraid. Bad dreams are only dreams. Oh what a time you chose to be born, sweetheart.

Dad!!!???

What!?

Can you stop quoting Wu-Tang albums for just a few minutes and listen, please...?

Okay, okay, okay. Go ahead, Iʼm listening...

...listening...to my knight slash your bishopʼs throat! CHECK!!!Dad!

Go ahead, Iʼm listening... for real this time. Go ʻhead

Thereʼs several books you gave me, but mainly itʼs been the ones about medical experiments that have been done on Black people by doctors and scientists.

OK. I know which books youʼre talking about. Those are some really horrible stories.

Exactly. And the way the authors write the stories with such graphic details, itʼs been hard for me to get the images out of my head.

Itʼs like the writersʼ words turn into pictures in my mind. It feels like a horror movie when Iʼm reading. When I go to sleep, the images stay with me. In the dreams sometimes, Iʼm in the room watching and listening to the doctors plan the procedures. Really?

Yeah. One time, there were these scientists talking about breeding millions of insects... I canʼt remember exactly what kind, but...they were talking about developing some kind of insects that would carry all types of biological germs, bacteria, viruses, diseases. The room we were in was full of mirrors. I could see almost everyone and everything from where I was standing, but they couldnʼt see me. At least I thought they couldnʼt see me. It felt like I was standing above them—like I was super tall, or something. There were papers and fi les all around, pictures, and a bunch of different maps.

Sounds like you were on a Hollywood set for a new sci-fi movie...You know what? This has nothing to do with your dream, but, I wish The RZA would do a movie score for a sci-fi movie. Iʼd go see that movie in a heartbeat. If not him, then Dre should do one. Iʼll watch them movies with my eyes closed just to hear the dope a-s beats!

Dad, youʼre too funny!

My fault...I know youʼre going through something serious. Go ahead. What else did you see?...Check.

There were business men, military people there, in uniforms. Mostly men, only two or three women. The room was very spacious, with large tables where all the paperwork and maps and stuff were. Everyone had these white I.D. badges hanging from their neck. The place was like a laboratory, but there were shelves and vials and different instruments. Plus there was a see-through door with a numerical keypad on the side of it—you know, for entering and exiting.

You mean a security door.

Right. But you couldnʼt even get out of the door without knowing the pass code. You couldnʼt get in, or out. I could tell some of the people in the room were new, because they would excuse themselves from the tables and try to go out the door, but it wouldnʼt open. The armed guard had to open the door from the outside.

How did you get in the room?

Itʼs alright to feel like that. Isnʼt it incredible how the mind works!? Just from reading a few words, the mind has the ability to fashion a whole new environment around you. Your awareness changes, your senses seem heightened, youʼre more alert. Iʼve had many dreams in my life before, but most of the times they come from life experiences, deaths in the family, or straight up from watching to many Freddy Krugger, or Faces of Death movies, but not from books. You on some “Nat-Turner-reading-the-Bible-then-killing-White-folks” type demonstration, for real!

The people in the room, I could sense what they were planning. As they were speaking, I could slowly feel a dull, squeezing pain all around me, and I felt myself becoming more anxious and angry as the words kept coming from their mouths. What they were planning, I knew it was wicked. And, I knew I wanted to do something to stop it. The pain I was feeling from hearing their words made me...it made me...want to...kill.

Check.

I heard them saying something about trying out the new biological warfare techniques that they were developing. One of the men in a military uniform said something to the business men like, “Bombs and guns are sometimes too expensive and loud. Weʼre discovering new, quiet ways to get rid of our problems.”

That is some really wicked, diabolical words to use—to call people a “problem”.

It really did make me want to kill something, Dad! Iʼve only felt that one time in my life, but this time it was so intense, I canʼt even explain it. I mean...what they wanted to do to the people was terrible! And for what!? For nothing!

They were saying that they could make it where the people wouldnʼt know why they are getting sick. The symptoms would be similar to any common cold or fl u virus infection. Completely airborne, completely untraceable.

They discussed the different tests they ran on both humans and animals, including birds and monkeys. One of the side effects of the infection was partial blindness in humans. One species of monkey, all of the ones they exeperimented on went complety blind. Each one that they tested.

Thatʼs crazy...Monkey see...then, monkey canʼt see!

Dad, thatʼs not funny at all. You can be so insensitive at times.

How can you say that? Iʼm being completely sensitive. Monkeys get it the worst. I mean, anytime some scientist or whatever wants to test some new lotions, or cream, soaps, or some bomb or spaceship or something, they call in the monkey reinforcements. You donʼt hardly see them using no apes or big, muscle-bound gorillas or anything strong like that. Those nerds would get their eyelids ripped off messing with some big, wild gorillas. Let some scientist try and massage some new, exotic cream on a wild gorillaʼs arm...and it burns him. Them gorillas would go complety ape sh*t, for real. Itʼll be “Gorillas Gone Wild” up in that piece. Youʼll have a bunch of mad scientists running around here with no eyelids yelling out “I canʼt go to sleep! What the #%*! is going on, I canʼt go to sleep!” And thatʼs what theyʼll get...messing with Godʼs little, innocent creatures like that. Karma baby, karma. You brought it on yourself you smart-dumb scientists....Poor, little, innocent monkeys.

Anyways, Dad.

I donʼt know how I got in the room. I was just there. Thatʼs how it always happens in my dreams. Iʼm always observing, listening, looking around in the dream. Sometimes, Iʼll interact with whatʼs going on, but the majority of the time, Iʼm just there watching—like a witness to a crime. I could hear them saying that the insects they were reproducing were going to be released near public places. Schools, neighborhoods, churches—it didnʼt really matter. I guess thatʼs why they had all the maps laying everywhere. I was so shocked by what I heard that I whispered out loud “Oh my God”! I had to put my hand over my mouth just so they wouldnʼt hear me under my breath.

I couldnʼt see any of the peopleʼs faces in the room, but I did catch glimpses of some of their names from the badges they were wearing. The badges I saw were the same names of the scientists and doctors I read in the books. I just donʼt know what they looked like.

I think what Iʼm going to do is look up some of these scientists and doctors and do some reasearch on what they have done to people all over this country, and make it widely known.

Thatʼs a really good idea. Iʼll help with any other research you may need...and speaking of research? Did you complete your math research?

TO BE CONTINUED...

Well, you better get to it before I start developing some new and improved, scientifi c butt-whooping techniques. Iʼm not going to keep telling you about your homework. Itʼs YOUR homework. Not mine. Yours! And speaking of butt-whooping, CHECKMATE!

Umm...

Awww Dad!? You promised you would...

I know, I know. But you were wide open. I had to take advantage. Iʼve been trying to innovate this new technique.

What new technique?

I call it “not losing”!... Pack up this stuff and letʼs get back home. Youʼve got work to do.

Very funny.

T6X/

2009

ONE MINDM E D I A G R O U P

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