Bread (mLA/T)

Dad. Still thinking of a master plan...
9iner Gang since '88. I take pics here and there.🇨🇦 born, 🇯🇲 heritage.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@TommyBeer Energy vampires. There was joy, and the ruling class CANNOT allow joy to ferment, ESPECIALLY amongst a diverse population.

They sucked the joy outta NYC.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@No_Kompetition2 @VanLathan I HATE that this tweet is so accurate lol

[Crazy Vibes @CrazyVibes_1]

When the President of France visited the United States in April 1960, he asked the FBI to help him find a man.
The man he was looking for was an American citizen. He was sixty-four years old. He had been awarded fifteen French military decorations and — six months earlier, in a ceremony in Paris — had been made a Knight of the Légion d'honneur, the highest civilian honor France can give. The medal had been pinned to his chest by the President himself, who had publicly called him un véritable héros français. A true French hero.
The FBI located the man within a few days.
He was operating an elevator at Rockefeller Center in New York City.
The elevator operator's name was Eugene Bullard. He had been born in Columbus, Georgia, in 1895, the son of a man whose own father had been a slave.

He had run away from Columbus at the age of eleven, after watching a white mob nearly lynch his father.
He spent the next several years drifting through the American South. At sixteen, he stowed away on a German freighter at Norfolk, Virginia. He landed in Aberdeen, Scotland. From there he made his way to London, where he learned to box. By 1913, at eighteen, he was prizefighting in Paris.
When Germany invaded France in August 1914, Bullard was nineteen years old. He had no legal obligation to fight. He had no French citizenship.
He went to the recruiting office on October 19, 1914, and signed up for the French Foreign Legion.
He spent the next eighteen months as an infantryman in some of the worst fighting of the war — at the Somme, at Champagne, at Verdun. He was wounded three times. The third wound, on March 5, 1916, tore open his thigh and left him with permanent damage to his leg.
He was twenty years old. The doctors told him he would not return to the infantry.
He decided he wanted to fly.

In a Paris café in the spring of 1916, while he was recovering, Bullard mentioned to three white American friends that he was thinking of joining the French air service. A Mississippian named Jeff Dickson laughed.
Gene, Dickson said, you know damn well there aren't any Negroes in aviation.
Bullard answered: Sure do. That's why I want to get into it. There has to be a first to everything, and I'm going to be the first.
Dickson bet him two thousand dollars he would not make it.
Bullard took the bet. He earned his pilot's license on May 5, 1917. He won the bet.
He reported to the front in August 1917 and flew approximately twenty combat missions over the next three months in a SPAD VII. The fuselage was painted with a bleeding heart pierced by a knife and the French phrase Tout le Sang qui Coule est Rouge — All Blood that Flows is Red.
He carried, on every combat flight, a small capuchin monkey named Jimmy in the front of his flight jacket.
The French press began calling him L'Hirondelle Noire — the Black Swallow.

When the United States entered the war in 1917, Bullard immediately applied to transfer to the U.S. Army Air Service.
His application was rejected.
The U.S. Army Air Service had a policy, in 1917, of not accepting Black pilots. The other American pilots flying for France in his unit, all of them white, were transferred to the U.S. Air Service.
He was the only one who was not.

For the next twenty years, he was one of the most familiar faces in the Montmartre nightlife of Paris between the wars. He owned a nightclub called L'Escadrille. He spoke fluent French, English, and German. Hemingway drank there. Fitzgerald drank there. Langston Hughes drank there. Josephine Baker performed there. Louis Armstrong was a personal friend.
When Germany invaded Poland in 1939, Bullard was forty-four. His fluent German and his ownership of a nightclub frequented by German officers made him useful to the French Resistance. He became an intelligence agent — eavesdropping in his own bar on conversations between German officers who did not know he understood every word.
When France fell in June 1940, friends in the Resistance smuggled him across the Spanish border before the Gestapo could arrest him.
He came back to the United States for the first time in twenty-eight years.
He arrived in New York with thirty dollars in his pocket and a permanent limp.

He did not return to a hero's welcome. He returned to a country that had no idea who he was.
He worked at a perfume counter. He worked as a security guard. He worked at the Staten Island shipyards. By the late 1940s, he had taken the job that he would hold for most of the rest of his life.
He operated the elevator at Rockefeller Center.
He was wearing the elevator uniform on the day a producer from NBC came down from the studios upstairs to ask if he was the man Charles de Gaulle had been looking for.
A few weeks later, NBC sent a film crew to interview him in the lobby. The studios where NBC produced The Today Show were on the floors above. He had operated the elevator that took the network executives up to those studios every morning for nearly ten years. He had not been recognized as he did it.
He went back to operating the elevator the following Monday.

He died of stomach cancer on October 12, 1961, three days after his sixty-sixth birthday.
He was buried in the French War Veterans' section of Flushing Cemetery, in Queens, in the uniform of the French Foreign Legion. The casket was draped with the French flag.
In 1994 — thirty-three years after his death — the United States Air Force formally commissioned Eugene Jacques Bullard as a Second Lieutenant, posthumously.
It was the first commission the U.S. military had ever offered him.
He had been the first Black combat pilot in American history.
The French had been calling him a hero since 1917.
The Americans got around to it in 1994.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@MrViralHimself I'm from TO. Forest Hill, the neighborhood Drake was in, is a wealthy enclave. Yet 25% of the ppl there, incl. Drake at the time, are renters (had the bottom 2 lvls of a house).

Struggle is relative. I lived in a decent apt., but it wasn't easy for my parents.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@Sincerelytkxo @LowEndKid @Thechat101 Where are the ghostwriters? At this point, you'd have thought they'd come out the woodwork to pile on but none?

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@nokakodaks @_Twinndiesel Stuck gonna be song of the summer.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@MickeyFactz Question.

When you say "remix", do you mean just the beat (ie Jump Around), or the lyrics AND beat (ie One More Chance)?

If it's just the beat, Shut 'Em Down.
If it's both, I'd have to go with Loungin'.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@simsimmaaz I'm Canadian born of Jamaican heritage. My wife is Chilean. 3 kids.

Toronto might be the only city where this type of thing happens lol

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@AjFromUpt So, if Drake rapped about his contributions to his TFSA, or how his last visit to his doc revealed he has mild osteoarthritis in his foot, you'd be bumping his music?

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@brothatsayikes @JJacqueline29 @LactosePapiii @xiazfan Here's why y'alls theory doesn't work with the song.

5 LINES/BARS DOWN he says "uh, because I never had you/Although I would be glad to..."

So y'all are saying he RAPED the girl he's been pining for?

Songs have structure. Show me where rape comes into play here.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@brothatsayikes @JJacqueline29 @LactosePapiii @xiazfan I'm too old to argue on the web. And comprehension is a skill that isn't being taught in school.

She's blackout drunk. He comes to her RESCUE (hero). Then, according to y'all, CHANGES HIS MIND and violates her (villain)? /1

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@LactosePapiii @xiazfan And I'm not naive. I KNOW there are a great many disgusting and evil men out there that move in a predatory manner.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@LactosePapiii @xiazfan I think he means he showed up to take care of her in her time of need, & next morn she has no recollection of it, like most blackout drunks.

I've had drunk lady friends who, while I didn't undress, I'd put to bed w/🍶and a garbage can to puke in case, & not remember next morn.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@RoyIsThaTruth Get ready for school since I'm 12.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@acechaffey8 @slimesneverdie @king_kingkai7 The Church told ppl the Earth was flat for centuries. How many followers did they lose?

It's not HOW you receive the information. It's WHAT you do with it afterwards.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@industrypolitic To further what the guy says in the vid, I got the perfect example.

The Hood Gon Love It - Jay Rock ft. Kendrick.

Song is dope AF. Can't nobody tell me that Dot should've been on it. Should've been Jay solo. And I bump Dot's music.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@king_kingkai7 "...riding around all summer/pedal bars.../talk about who's grooming who..."

I need the term for the literary device used here.

Used a bike scheme (riding, pedal bars).
"Pedal bars" (kids say that), which sounds like "Pedo", then says w/who's grooming who.

He's good.

[Bread (mLA/T) @bessimaging]

@Th_Angelopoulos This is what SM should be used for. I don't treat you as an authority, but the information you've provided allows me (and those interested) to dig deeper if we should so choose.

All the best to you and yours.👊🏿