the kinté space oddity
 
the kinte space oddity

PHOTO: Darryl Allan Smith

the kinté space oddity

Hello, I am Bryan Wilhite. I am a specially designed afrinaut capable of funkatizing galaxies. This was first laid on this manchild when I was born in Los Angeles in 1968. I went to all the tan and blue-green schools LAUSD had to offer in an inner-city filled with radical 1970s teachers—mostly women—who prepared me for the College of Letters and Science at UCSB where I stole a degree in physics in 1991. I was a Bachelor in Science but was married for a year to have my first-born son, Amon Wilhite, another soul super-bad.

I have been using computers since my junior high school years. From a local Masjid that used to be on Crenshaw with TRS-80s to the hardware of big-house corporate America, I find computers to be like basketball courts: Neutral and relatively inanimate objects that do what I tell them to do (most of the time). They execute without prejudice free from whimsical glass ceilings. They let me play hacky sack in silk slave shackles.

I try to satisfy my artistic side with this electronic project—these here phosphor pages you are experiencing. I prefer this World Wide Web to an honorable poesy paper publication out of Montana. The literary agents in New York are dwelling in the nose zone of zero funkativity in a global economy. So the kinté space is just one of many of these terrestrial projects, one of many of these sacred phenomena waiting for a more positive attitude.

So, dig, I remain Bryan Wilhite, ego-tripping, time zone shifting and bandwidth snatching—looking to be the bomb, trying to blow minds.

It is just a young brother getting over by slinging brains.

Poof.