I was born in Plainsfield, New Jersey in 1984 to an amazing mother and a standard issue American alcoholic father. A lot of ugly shit happened because of his issues but that's not the point.  As Slug said, "What's that got to do with me rhymin'?"  I've moved on and I hold no grudges against my Bio Dad because I know he was just doing his best to survive.  I don't know if I can ever forgive him for what he did to my Mom but holding grudges never got anybody anywhere.

Pretty soon after I was born, my Mom realized that she had to get out of that situation and she did...with a little help from my Grandfather and his nine iron. I lived with my Mom at my grandparents' house in Convent Station, NJ for a while. While we were living there, my Mom started seeing a coworker. He turned out to be a hell of a guy and I'm proud to call him Dad. Just because I don't carry his genes doesn't mean he's not a huge part of the man I've become.

Mom and Dad got married right after my fourth birthday and later that year, my Mom told me she was pregnant. I'll never forget that moment, which is one of my first memories. We moved to a new house that would be more suitable for our growing family in Long Valley, NJ. My sister was born in August of 1989 and it got a little dicey as she was born with some pretty severe health issues. But she pulled through it because she's strong as fuck and our little family began its journey. We lived in Long Valley until I was in the middle of 3rd grade. That was in 1993. If you're anal enough to do the math on that, you'll see that it doesn't work out. So, yeah, I repeated kindergarten. Apparently, I talked too much to move up to 1st grade.

In 1993, we moved to Lexington, Kentucky. We did this partially to get away from my Bio Dad who was sinking further into alcoholic delusion and becoming dangerous. But whatever the reason, living in Lexington was sweet. We had a big house and the neighborhood was nice. My best friend lived right behind me. We made a doorway through the shrubs that bordered our yards so we wouldn't have to walk around the block to get to each other's house. We played basketball every morning before school because that's what one does in Kentucky.

In 1996, my Bio Dad had followed us to Kentucky and things were getting a little sketchy again. We were thinking about moving when my Mom got an opportunity to work at the Army hospital in Landstuhl, Germany as an independent contractor. So we took it. At this point, we felt it would be better not to tell my Bio Dad where we were going and to sever all ties. Christmas of 1996 was the last time I spoke to my Bio Dad. I still love him and sometimes I think about writing him but like I said earlier, there's just some shit I can't get over.

Moving to Germany was the most amazing experience of my life. We lived in the middle of rural Germany in a farming village with 120 people. We only had 37 houses in the village. I could walk the whole village in ten minutes. We knew everyone and everyone knew us. Some people didn't like Americans but most were really cool and we developed strong bonds with several families. But the best thing was the way living in this environment allowed me to grow up a little slower. In the states, I would have gotten the typical media onslaught and tried to grow up way too fast just like all the kids we see today. Instead, I had no TV except for a couple stations and no overwhelming consumerist culture to brainwash me. We had to drive about forty five minutes to get to a commercial area with malls and big department stores. My free time was spent gallivanting around in the woods that surrounded our village. My best friend and I would make forts and whatever else we felt like doing. It was awesome. That's how a person develops a connection with and a love of nature. Not by watching Al Gore do a PowerPoint presentation. Sometimes I wonder if kids even know what grass stains are anymore.

After three years of paradise, we moved back to the states and to Venice, Florida to be exact. We moved there to be close to my grandparents who had been living there for ten years. I arrived in Venice just in time to start high school and the culture shock was pretty severe. My entire K-8 school on base in Germany had 800 students and my high school had over 2500. I was not prepared. I didn't know how to dress, how to talk or anything about how to socialize. I was used to just being myself. Instead, I found myself surrounded by thousands of fake, self-absorbed and materialistic teenage sheeple. The first two years of high school were pretty brutal. I ate lunch by myself and didn't talk to anyone in class. On the upside, the schools in Florida are atrocious so I developed a reputation as the smart silent kid in the back of the class, with which I was cool.

My third year of high school is when I really began to take some steps away from mainstream US culture. I was lucky enough to have an English teacher who encouraged her students to explore themselves and to learn in any way that was effective. That was the best class I have ever taken. I developed friendships in that classroom that lasted years. And that's saying something for me. She introduced me to Kurt Vonnegut and William Faulkner whom I consider to be huge influences on my writing and music. After that class, the rest of high school was more typical because I finally had some friends. So I skipped class and gave up my status as valedictorian to learn a little about life. I smoked weed for the first time during my senior year of high school and so on.

After high school, I intended to go to a major school and I was accepted to the University of Chicago. However, when I started figuring out what it would cost, even after scholarships, I decided going to Florida State on a full ride would make more sense. That was a really good decision because my experiences in Tallahassee changed the entire course of my life.

During my freshman year at FSU, I went to a meeting of a student activist group with a friend. I was really just going to have something to do. At that meeting, I learned about the Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA) and the concept of free trade in general. After going to a couple more meetings and doing some research on my own, I decided that free trade was a horrible idea and I could prove it. So I signed up to go on our group's trip to Miami and protest the meeting of FTAA ministers. I thought we would go there, protest, get some media coverage, explain our position and people would notice.

Instead, I was eventually greeted by pepper spray, tear gas and rubber bullets. The police attacked the crowd without provocation and several people that I knew were injured in the confrontation. I was bordering on a state of shock as I still believed that the US was a free country and the greatest country in the world. I couldn't believe those cops were shooting at me for no reason. At one point, I was so infuriated that I started walking toward the police line and my friend actually had to walk up and put his arm around me so that I would walk backwards toward safety with him. I will never forget that feeling. I just wanted those cops to see me as a human being and realize that they were hurting people for no reason. I had no idea how brainwashed those New Age SS soldiers were.

From there, my life spiraled out of control. I, of course, decided to dedicate myself to activism and spreading the word about what had happened. As I hit wall after wall and saw so many people whose minds were completely closed to anything that differs from the mainstream media/education brainwashing program, I began to sink into a depression and substance abuse. Right in the middle of the worst times, I heard a CD in my friend's car that completely flipped my shit. I asked her what it was and she said it was Float by Aesop Rock. That album changed my life. As soon as I heard that, I started listening to everyone on Def Jux and spread out to other familiar underground crews.

As I became an increasingly reclusive pothead, I developed a friendship with another reclusive pothead. We were very different but also very similar. I had actually been friends with his brother before I really started hanging out with him. One day, we were all playing Super C on NES and listening to some music. I put on a Jedi Mind Tricks CD and he was like, "What you know about Jedi Mind?"

And all I could say was, "I know a little." But I said like I was real cool and just underplaying my hip hop knowledge. I totally wasn't. I had just started to listen to hip hop but I didn't want to seem like another white kid who finds out about hip hop in college. He and I would become really close friends over the next couple years and he is the one who opened the door to the world of hip hop and showed me what the deal was. He was the first person for whom I ever spat a rhyme and we rhymed together for a couple years.

But getting back to the timeline, shortly after we really started to hang out, I had to withdraw from school for a semester and return home. That was in the summer of 2005. I was diagnosed with every psychological disorder in existence by lots of different doctors. By the time I was fully into my treatment, I was taking over twenty pills per day. Right before I went home, I wrote my first rhyme. And throughout the time at home, I felt compelled to write rhymes. I was listening to tons of new music all the time: Aesop, Sage Francis, El-P, Eyedea, Atmoshpere, Blackalicious, Immortal Technique, Madlib, MF Doom, Cannibal Ox, Public Enemy, Lakim Shabazz, Jedi Mind, Army of the Pharaohs, Cool Calm Pete and the list goes on. I kept writing even though I had no idea of even what a bar was or how to get a beat. I was just writing strings of rhyming words with some kind of made up rhythm.

I went back to school in January of '06. I decided I wasn't going to write rhymes anymore because I was a suburbanite white kid and to do so would be fake. So I went back to writing fiction to satisfy my muse. But in class, I couldn't focus and I kept writing my weird style of free verse rhyming poetry. Eventually, I gave in and decided to just write rhymes. But I wasn't going to tell anyone because they would make fun of me. So I wrote my first couple tracks to free beats that I found online. As anyone who creates knows, creation leads to a desire to share. I was dying to know if my tracks sounded as good as I thought they did.

So I started reading my tracks for my psychologist. Not an ideal audience, but better than nothing. One day, I showed up at an appointment visibly high and he called me out and told me I had to leave. He said that being high was a violation of our relationship and I should come back next week. He was convinced that the weed was part of my problem. I was convinced weed was one of the few things keeping me from jumping off a roof. So I went home and made a serious choice. I threw all the pills in the garbage and quit therapy. I decided that only I knew what was best for me.

I also decided to read my rhymes for my friend. From there, he taught me how to count bars and construct a verse. We started rhyming together and my life started to improve immediately. That was in the summer of '06. After the fall semester in '06, I decided to quit school and get a job. At the same time, my friend left Tallahassee to move to Chicago and I was pretty much alone, which was cool with me. I went to work every day as a Head Start teacher and busted my ass to give those kids the best environment I could possibly create. I did everything for those people. So, naturally, they fired me for not following the Head Start curriculum.

After I got fired, I couldn't find another job. I applied for dozens of jobs and barely even got an interview. In the fall of '07, my friend who moved to Chicago told me that he could get me a job as an organizer for a major union in Chicago. The job had a salary and benefits and I would get to help people gain fair wages and respect at work. Good deal. Unfortunately, it didn't exactly work out that way. Upon moving to Chicago, I discovered several things. I hate big cities. Snow and ice suck for adults. We worked 60 hour weeks. We would be campaigning for Obama. Having a salary and benefits is no replacement for freedom. So, a couple weeks into working there, I talked my friend into quitting to pursue other interests. I won't say any more than that until the resulting legal situation is resolved next month.

In the summer of '08, I arrived back home to start my life over. I started looking for jobs and eventually I found one. That allowed me to move out of my parents' house and get back on my own path. I've been on my own again since February of '09 and the story continues to progress. So it goes.

Addendum Regarding Legal Situation:

I mentioned previously that I would further explain what happened with regards to the legal situation in which I found myself involved. Now that it has been fully resolved, I will elaborate further. I will change the names of certain individuals as I have not spoken with them about whether or not they would like me sharing this information.

Last May, I attempted to move to California. My reason for doing so was to get to a place where I could become a legitimate medical marijuana grower and provider. I knew that I could earn enough money to buy land, get off the grid and channel the rest of my resources into getting the truth to as many humans as possible. I had a partner in this endeavor. For the purposes of this blog, let's call him Tom. Tom and I spoke at length about our goals for our lives and how we would accomplish them. We were basically attempting to build enough wealth to compete with the global elite, albeit through different media channels. Unfortunately, we made the mistake of discussing these types of plans on the phone along with discussions about our marijuana distribution activities. We used typical coded language but anyone with knowledge of the game would be able to easily decipher our conversations. Despite this, we operated without interruption until the day we started driving to California where our plan would go from being a secret illegal endeavor to an above board full attack on the New World Order.

Tom and I left Chicago in a Penske moving truck with his pregnant girlfriend and her best friend following us in Tom's car. After a while, we noticed that Tom's girlfriend was no longer behind us. Shortly after that, we received a call from her cell phone. On the other end was a cop saying that they had pulled over Tom's girlfriend for following the moving truck too closely. How many times have you heard of someone getting pulled over for that? They told Tom that they had smelled marijuana in the car and they had searched the car and indeed found less than an ounce. They told Tom that we could either come back and bail out the other members of our party on the side of the road so that we could continue going to California or else his pregnant girlfriend was going to have to spend the night in jail. Needless to say, we turned around and went back to pay the bond. That was our first mistake. Never trust a cop.

When we arrived at the location of the stop, we were immediately told that our truck smelled like marijuana and that we would be searched. The K-9 unit was already on the scene and we were told that they could walk the dog around our truck because it was a "free air" search and they could walk the dog wherever they liked. Naturally, the dog started scratching at the truck during the search. The fact that we had a bag of dog food and a dog crate stored exactly where the dog scratched was of no concern to the cops.

Next, they used the dog wanting to eat our dog food as probable cause to search the truck and eventually found about a pound of marijuana, a bunch of paraphernalia and lots of cash. So they separated us and interrogated us in typical law and order style. I asked for a lawyer. The detective called a "defense attorney" friend of his who promptly advised me to confess everything. Great advice. Thanks, chief. I still declined to talk. So they had me talk to Tom who had already been browbeaten into confessing after being told that if he didn't, we (including his pregnant girlfriend) would be facing fifteen years in prison. Unfortunately, fear took over at that point and I started talking thinking that if I didn't, I would be the one to take the fall for everyone else. Thankfully, I managed to navigate around giving up any actual names or locations of anyone who was nice enough to work with us during our time in the business. I don't know if I could have lived with myself knowing that I had put away any of those folks for any amount of time.

The rest of the chronology is relatively unimportant. I spent a couple weeks in jail until they didn't have room for me anymore and they released me on my own recognizance. I went back home to live with my parents so I could start putting my life back together and a year later, here I am.

The interesting part of this story is based around the interaction between the defective who arrested us and my partner Tom as reported to me by Tom. Tom's family is historically Masonic. His grandfather was a 32nd degree mason and his grandmother also had a very high rank. I had known this for a long time as I had been friends with both Tom and his brother for years. They often talked about how they found their grandparents' Masonic ties interesting and always wanted to know more about it. But as would be expected, they never got any real information on the subject.

The detective who arrested us told Tom that he knew about his grandparents' Masonic ties. The detective told Tom that he was himself a 32nd degree mason. While interrogating Tom, he played a CD containing the tracks that Tom and I had recorded. He complimented Tom on our music and said that we were learning. He wanted to know where we were getting our information. He told Tom about private conversations that we'd had via cell phone dating back as far as two years. I know you are finding this hard to believe, but what possible motive would Tom have to lie to me about these conversations?

The next step in their interaction was for the arresting detective to offer Tom the chance to be a professional informant. Tom told me about this offer but he never told me what he decided. Based on all of this, I began to withdraw from Tom as I was no longer sure which side he would be playing for going forward. Tom told me that he had asked the arresting detective if he could join the masons. The detective told him that he was not ready yet. Specifically, he said that Tom needed to develop a reverence for God.

I don't have any further information in this regard as I was separated from Tom and moved to a different cell block after the first half of my stay in jail. I was moved after suffering an acute attack of severe abdominal pain and nausea that was misdiagnosed as appendicitis resulting in an unnecessary appendectomy. The surgeon was flabbergasted that my appendix was not infected based on the symptoms I presented. I try not to think about this too much as the possibilities are rather ominous. Instead, I have chosen to go to an all raw food diet and make health a major priority for the rest of my life.

So, as you can see based on my own personal experience, the masons are a secret society. They do have more than three levels. They do recruit and take an active role in bloodline members' lives. They do use the government to monitor activity they feel is threatening to their power. However, I am not simple minded enough to think they are the only secret society, the most powerful secret society or anything along those lines. They are simply another secret society in the web of New World Order front organizations. I just happen to now have proof of their existence and activities.

I understand that I am one random person posting on a website and I have absolutely no credibility to anyone who doesn't know me. That said, go listen to the music and see if I sound like the kind of person who would lie to get attention. Feel free to email me if you want to know more about my experience or if you have had a similar experience and want to compare notes.

Lastly, I don't rule out the idea that this was all a setup to make me focus on the masons instead of a more general pursuit of spiritual growth and enlightenment. And this is exactly the reason I remain focused on the latter. 

UPDATE: Summer 2010

I have recently been openly surveilled by marked and unmarked police.  I cannot get into the details because they were actually unable to arrest me this time and anything I write here could be potentially incriminating in the context of the level of honesty and accuracy of the rest of the information on this page.  Suffice to say, I have ceased any illegal activities in which I may or may not have been engaged since the resolution of my last case.  I have realized that the positive benefits of such pursuits are not worth the potential risk to my true mission, which is the music and information contained on this site.  I am posting this update as much for potential truth seekers who are interested in my background as I am for the intelligencia who monitor me.  Sorry, guys.  If you want to imprison me, you are going to have to light the Consitution on fire and piss on it to put it out instead of just trampling on it like you did last time.  I am now even more focused on providing information to those who seek it and developing my own stength of spirit through my creative endeavors.  Your attempts to arouse fear only succeeded in motivating me.  I am not afraid.  I am not even concerned.  I know I am protected and I will do what I am on this planet to do.