Give THANKS Bitches

All is well with the world. Well...at least MY world. I have a full belly. I am quite a bit tipsy. I have a roof over my head. Creditors aren't bustin' down my door. I have a loving family. I have leftovers in the fridge. I got some money in the bank. I got friends who I can count on. I got music when I need it. I can't complain. To put it bluntly, I SHOULDN'T complain.

I've got a lot to be thankful for. Apparently, even turkeys have it better than most Ninth Ward, New Orleans residents. I'll repeat myself. I live in the NYC. We have our ups and downs. However, I am still thankful. While turkeys are getting pardoned, many of our fellow Americans are locked up in NOLA, without a charge, without a public defender, and without evidence.

Let's face it: the only reason turkeys still exist is Thanksgiving and tree-huggin' turkey burger eaters. Evolution dictates that dumb birds will go the way of the dodo. Yet, these birds stay gettin' pardoned, livin' it up MTV cribs style in turkey-mansions in Vermont. All the while, my fellow brothers and sisters stay locked down in the NOLA. Whatever evidence used to put them in jail has also gone the way of the dodo.

While I contemplate the many ways to prepare leftovers for breakfast, my fellow Americans on lockdown in NOLA are getting law students to help them out. The public defenders are gone; the tide swept them away, along with the fingerprints we supposedly had. Miranda is just another name: if you can't afford a lawyer, and the evidence we had to convict you washed away, here's a law student to talk to you. Guantanamo is more than just over there.

Damn. Life is precious. A blessing. Give thanks.

Watch the sunrise. Read a book. Check out that museum you've been meaning to check out. Vote. Read the newspaper. Buy stocks in a company because you believe in 'em. Take public transportation to work. Tell someone you love them. Play your hip-hop LOUD.

Live life. NOW.