Re “It Is Not Exactly All About Ali”
[img]1612|right|Najee Ali||no_popup[/img]Several years ago, I asked a valued Culver City friend to deliver a eulogy at my funeral.
This afternoon, I will add a second name:
Najee Ali.
There may not be two unlikelier friends in Los Angeles.
Before we met 14 months ago, I had judged him to be a recklessly wild man beyond taming.
By accounts of him in the faithlessly unreliable Los Angeles Titanic – where if you are a gay man who marries a bisexual horse, you will be granted a hero’s halo – I misjudged the professional community activist. Mr. Ali regularly was portrayed as discipline-resistant, hopelessly unreasonable social justice thorn.
Smarmy Titanic stories told me would that no matter how much calm and serenity prevailed, he would stir every protest movement he led or attended in the black community just for the joy of seeing the spoon move.
If the dreadful newspaper had called up down, it would have been less wrong than in its typically shallow, slapdash assessment of Mr. Ali . The Titanic is as unreliable as Sucker Obama, my choice as the most dishonest, laziest, dumbest, most race-baiting, unethical man to hold top tier office in our country.
Mr. Ali, on a far different and more honorable hand, is at the top of the list among the sweetest, sharpest, most sensitive persons I have been fortunate to befriend.
Two hours ago, he sent me a dreadful email addressed to family and friends:
The doctor confirmed this morning that I do have cancer. It hasn't spread as of yet.
I begin my chemotherapy this week. He told me I can beat it. I believe him.
So whatever rumours you might hear in the future about my health. Just ignore them. I'm going to beat this! Thanks for your friendship over the years.
Thanks,
Najee
Mr. Ali better defeat the cancer. I am not leaving for many years.
I am counting on him to say goodbye for me.
