Thursday, December 4, 2008

In the Spirit of Thankfulness...

Thank you.

To the unconscious force that governs everything in the Universe, from life to the movement of the stars, thank you.

I thank you that (as far as anyone can tell) you didn't allow my grandmother to suffer when she passed away on Thanksgiving morning. I am thankful that she was alert and coherent and active up to the end. I am thankful that my grandmother, who was born in 1921 and lived through the second most segregated period of United States history (after slavery), lived to see an African American man elected to the presidency of the United States of America. I am thankful that though she was alone at her final moment, she was not alone as she approached it.

I am sorry I was not able to see her on the 15th of October, her birthday, when the rest of my family came down to visit her. I could not afford to make the trip. I am ashamed and embarrassed of that. I was close with her. With the loss of her, I lost a part of myself. When I couldn't make it for her birthday, I vowed nothing would stop me from coming down on Thanksgiving. I almost didn't make it, and my mother even told me it wasn't necessary. Eventually, we decided to come no matter what, but my grandmother died while we were en route. I hadn't seen her since 2004. I didn't view her body. I would never see her again.

I am thankful for my brother, Clifton, whom, despite everything he has dealt with and continues to deal with, has become a remarkable (though somewhat angry and tense) young man. I understand his anger and tension. I love him for it, as well as for everything else that is a part of him.

I am thankful, as well, for my brother Herman. He continually (unwittingly) teaches me to be thankful for that which you have because it could always be worse. For the wrong reasons, he also reminds me to stay on my toes, and to be completely covered in love - but not blinded by it.

I am thankful for my mother, who, among other things (through her actions), has demonstrated to me that a human being can withstand absolutely anything, as long as they have a firm belief in something. Hers is God (though tainted by religion). Mine is something else. But as long as one holds a firm (though not unchanging) belief in something, they will always have a place to draw strength from.

I am thankful for and to my fiancee' Simone, for any number of things - too voluminous to articulate. Most recently, I am thankful for her ability to watch a man shed tears as he watches the early stages of his family's collapse.

I am thankful for my cat, whom is far more independent than any cat I've ever known or known of, and who brightens every evening I come home.

I am thankful that I have the opportunity to live like a near-prince in Cleveland - one of the top four poorest cities in the nation. I came from one of the wealthiest cities in the nation, where I could no longer afford to live, to one of the poorest, and found work relatively easily in a place where no one else can.

Still can't afford a car. :)

I am thankful for so much more, but no less.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

I'm a Hardcore Rapper... (A Hip-Hop Parody)

(Beat: I Get Money - 50 Cent)

I'm a hard ass rapper -
I kill for fun -
I drive a tank to board meetings and
I text wit' my gun -
These rhymes are real serious -
I'm so damn hard -
That if I tripped in your driveway -
I'd shatter in your backyard -
And when you cleaned up all the pieces -
I'd slice your damn hand -
Because I'm not just hard I'm sharp -
Like the edge of a can -
I'm a murderer, a pusher, pimp, a player and plus -
I drive an 18-wheel SUV; I call it "the Bus"
It's made of solid gold and platinum -
With diamonds for wheels -
And you can see the sparks a-flyin' when I drive it to Sears -
I use it like an ice cream truck except instead I sell crack -
They had me drive it through the sand to make trenches in Iraq -
And my chain is SO BIG; people think I'm a slave -
I tell 'em "slavery is over it's just how I behave."
Nevermind the fact I'm all about the whips and the chains -
I'm a rapper so it's all about the head not the brains -

I wrote it for fun. Still, that's about the gist of hip-hop's message these days. I could probably go platinum with that.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

The Incivility of the Many...

"Doesn't he ever get tired of writing about society and politics?" you may ask. The answer is yes. I do. But when I see so much that is wrong, I can't help but say something about it. After all, if you see something, say something, right?

I was recently reading an article on gay marriage on CNN's Website, and there was a post at the bottom from a citizen in response to the article. Among many other incorrect and incoherent things in his post (and other posts), this caught my eye:

"There was a vote, the majority does not want gay marriage. That's how it works in America. The Bible clearly states that marriage is between and man and a woman."

What? Firstly, of the many things wrong with this statement, let's pick on the pettiest first. This is not America, this is the United States of America, meaning the United States is in America. Mexicans, Brazilians, Ecuadorians, Canadians, Jamaicans, and anyone else in the Americas can ALL, with complete accuracy, call themselves Americans. If there were a law in France barring the baking of baguettes on Tuesdays, you would say "that's how it works in France", not "that's how it works in Europe." It would be a French law, not a European law. It's a European law in that France is in Europe, in the way that a Frenchman is a European, but a European is not necessarily French.

Secondly, what the Bible says has little to do with legislature (in principle). Our system of government was specifically designed that way. It would seem (from the many embarrassing statements over several decades) that many of those who believe we should legislate religion, have not ever actually read the Constitution of the United States of America, or any part of it. Nor, it seems, have they paid any attention in any American history class that they have attended. The United States was founded specifically ON (among other things) the principle of separation of church and state. No legislator, executive, or judiciary figure should EVER make a determination on the law based on their religious beliefs, but rather, only in the best interests of the nation. Of course, in practice this is not easy and it certainly has not worked perfectly. If you believe Issue X is morally wrong based on your religion, how can you write Issue X into law? But that is why we have the checks and balances - which also are not perfect, but this was all set up with the idea of making the church and state as exclusive of each other as possible. This is for good reason. Remember when the Catholic church controlled 80% of Europe? And that's just one (widespread and historically prominent) example.

Thirdly, and for me, the worst of the wrong, the idea that "the majority does not want gay marriage. That's how it works in [the United States]." Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. And, this is where terminology gets dicey, because the United States (as many people incorrectly believe) is not a "democracy". It is a republic. A "democratic republic", yes, but nonetheless a republic. This distinction is important, because though they operate in an EXTREMELY similar manner, they have some important differences. A pure democracy is "majority rule". All of the citizens in that democracy gather someplace and a poll is taken on a particular interest. If half plus one vote one way, that is what is implemented. If the United States were that, the person who wrote that post on CNN would be correct. However, they were wrong because the United States is not a pure democracy.

Without going into encyclopedic depths, The United States of America is a democratic republic, which means a representative form of government, which already eliminates pure democracy, AND the Constitution of the United States establishes a republic, which is based on protecting the civil rights of the few from the tyranny and incivility of the many, by use of the majority. Becauise if all are protected, the majority is protected. That incivility may be racism, sexism, or any other "-ism", but our government is designed to protect the oppressed minority from the tyranny of the masses. It can be complicated, and obviously, has not worked perfectly. Slavery, of course, comes to mind most easily. This contradiction was "corrected" by slave owners with the "3/5th's of a man" rule, where a slave was not a full person, but property. This allowed for slavery to exist without legally contradicting the principle and law of the Constitution, though in spirit of course, it still did, because one doesn't take property to church and teach it Christianity, one does that to (or forces that onto) a person. Because, at the time, since one did not have robotic aides with interactive voice recognition software, one didn't ask their property to clean their house and work their fields, one asked (or forced) another person to do that.

The structure of the United States government, as set forth in the Constitution is the great genius that allows for this nation to correct its past mistakes. From slavery, to women's suffrage, to the release of Japanese-Americans from our concentration camps, etc., etc., etc., it is the structure of our government as a republic that not only requests, but requires us to protect the rights of the few over the tyranny and incivility of the many. As a "white-talkin' ", black male atheist, I know all too well what it is like to be an outsider and a minority, and I'm thankful that our forefathers forethought this point. By the way, many of the forefathers that created this genius-in-principle, imperfect-in-practice system were the antithesis of the people who invoke them when they discuss this great country. Many of them were the progressive, LIBERALS of their time. The same CNN poster said the "... fore fathers are probably turning in their graves..."

They are. Because of him.

It is true, we are one nation "under God", but that statement is meant to make the point:

"Aided by our religious beliefs, we as men will do what is best for men to get by, but we will not infringe on the rights of others to do as they will. We are all under God; Let God judge us and them accordingly",
not
"Our God is the end all for all".

Let God judge us and them accordingly.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Rappers for Obama...

Hypocrites. Manipulators. Liars. Fools.

These are just some of the nouns that could be used to describe the majority of rappers that supported Barack Obama in his presidential campaign. Why? Well, let's examine that.

Most rappers drive large, gas-guzzling, air-polluting SUV's and often travel in motorcades of multiple large, gas-guzzling, air-polluting SUV's.

Many rappers have clothing lines. These clothes are produced overseas in China for slave wages. They often employ black designers, but if you're a black person just looking for a job sewing the clothes together to make your ends meet, hope you can afford a long-term move to the Far East.

Most rappers support the degradation of women. Period.

Most rappers vehemently denounce homosexuality.

Obama ran on:
Energy reform - new and reusable sources of energy and the decrease of our dependence on foreign oil.

Penalizing companies that ship jobs Americans need to overseas locations to save a buck.

Respecting women and personal responsibility - financial and social.

Fighting for the rights of homosexuals (save for marriage).

Hmmm.

Clearly, rappers don't subscribe to Obama's platforms.

So why did rappers support Obama? Just because he was black?

Anyone have an answer?

Martin Luther King Jr. Was an Uncle Tom...

Yes, you read the title correctly. And not only is that my opinion - it's fact.

Martin Luther King, Jr. stood up for what he believed in, despite what others said he should do and say. Martin Luther King, Jr. fought for the rights of all oppressed people, but African-Americans in particular. Martin Luther King, Jr. did not personally believe in violence - even in self defense. Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed for his principles.

The character of Uncle Tom did all of these things. Those who invoke the character of Uncle Tom whenever they encounter a black person who simply does not see things the same way they do, discredit themselves and do a great disservice to Dr. King, Mohandas K. Gandhi, and others like them, as well as those whom these men fought for. As well, they embarrass themselves because, clearly, they have never actually read the book, but are just spitting up what they've heard someone else say. When you hear someone use the "Uncle Tom" term, ask them if they've ever read the book, then ask them (if they say "no") how they, then, arrived at their conclusion on what the term meant.

Uncle Tom did not go out of his way to appease whites. His subservience was in an effort to embrace non-violence and to protect those BLACKS whom he loved. He harbored no love of what whites did to him, but he harbored no hate for them as people. That sounds like Gandhi and King to me.

These same people shout "By any means necessary" and have the image of Malcolm X holding an AK-47 at his window locked in their minds. Ask them about the man and his principles, and that is all they can tell you. They don't tell you that not long before he died, Malcolm had come closer to King and Gandhi's views.

To black people who speak English well, write with correct grammar, have opinions that don't always involve what "Da Man" has done to them, who dress to give the impression that they are NOT criminals, who have career interests other than rap and sports, and who don't listen to Hip-Hop religiously, take pride. The ones who do all of the above and try to pass it off with homogeneity as "black culture" when it is just "street culture", they are the Uncle Toms. They are selling out to what society wants. They are marketing themselves as minstrels and baboons to the financial pleasure of corporate executives internationally. And no matter how much money some of them make ("Diddy" comes to mind - among [several] others) doing it, you are actually the ones waking up from the matrix - not them. They may have the money to travel the world, but they have learned nothing from it.

Educated, multi-interested, worldly black people unite! You have nothing to lose but your gaudy gold chains!

Monday, November 10, 2008

A Travesty...

That is what the I.E.P. Diploma is.

My fiancee' and I disagree about the New York City school system, because she believes trades either shouldn't be taught in High School, or all things should be taught equally in all schools. I argue this is not financially or socially feasible in the imperfect world, and the fact that NYC allows you to choose which High School you attend, makes up for that. If your school doesn't have a program you want to pursue, you can attend (free of charge) one that does. They even pay for you to get there.

The reason I bring this up, regarding the I.E.P. diploma, is this: Choice. It is perfectly acceptable to limit something, if one has the choice to circumvent that limitation, and has access to all the pertinent information to do so. NYC does this. When in Junior High School / Primary School in NYC, one cannot NOT know of their options and make plans accordingly, unless they are determined to be mis- or uninformed. When I was attending NYC pubic school, which was not long ago, a book with the list of High Schools and their programs, complete with program details was available to every student and parent two years before High School, and was handed out by the instructor, to each student individually, to take home, one year before High School. This was a thick book, and almost any question you had about the schools in question were answered in that book. If not, there were numbers to call any of the schools you had questions for or about, as well as a central information number. Guidance counselors at your current school were also equipped with information to assist students and parents.

If you decided you didn't want to attend Yale or Harvard, and wanted to learn auto repair, that was your (and your parents') decision. If you decided you did want to get into Harvard or Yale, you had the choice of the High Schools that would prepare you for that. If you were unsure, but wanted to cover all your bases, there were many High Schools that had the financial ability to cover that as well (there are well over 300 total High Schools in NYC). I attended one of those - Thomas A. Edison in Queens. If I had done things the way I was supposed to, I likely could have left there for an Ivy League Institution, or a career in a trade field. I had a choice.

When you receive an I.E.P. diploma from any school, and it is not legitimate (meaning, you do not have a thoroughly diagnosed learning disability / incapability), you are being denied the right of choice, and that - in this country - is a travesty. I.E.P. diplomas are not accepted for admission into any college or university, which means you need at least a GED to move forward. I.E.P. diplomas are the standard for "Special Education" students, and is little more than a certificate of attendance, but not recognition that one is prepared for the next step(s) in life. In fact it is recognition that you are not prepared, and it signals this to everyone who hears those three letters.

I currently live in Cleveland, Ohio, working at a community college, and everyday that I work at this school, student upon student with an I.E.P. diploma looking to get his or her GED, darkens my office threshold. Despite whatever cultural shortcomings they may experience, many of them succeed wonderfully. So, why is this? That is, why do so many of them have I.E.P.'s? Well, I would say that fully 98% of the students I encounter are low-income blacks. They have little education, or lack the social acumen to land and keep a job, lacking things such as office etiquette, knowledge of how to dress for an interview, what a resume looks like, etc., etc., etc., etc., etc...

Despite this, of those 98% of prospective GED students who are low-income blacks, 95% of them do NOT have a learning disability, and of the five percent that do, 98% of those acquired it environmentally, and not by birth. This says to me, that when a black student decides he or she wants to hang with the wrong crowd, skip class (or school altogether), not study for their tests and not turn in their homework (all the same things a white child will and does do), their teacher (oftentimes white - but not always), simply chalks it up to an inability to learn, as opposed to an unwillingness to learn - and this is a terribly lazy and wrong decision, that will change the course of these unwitting students' lives for quite a long time, if not forever. This is one of the great failures of the United States' educational system when it comes to dealing with underprivileged black children.

I know teachers get burned out. Same students, different year. Talking in class. Disruptive. Disrespectful. Angry. Truancy. I understand that dealing with these problems is not easy, and is in fact very complicated. But we can't take the easy way out for ourselves, and ruin the student's life. This is why the child is the student and the adult is the teacher. Parents are also a problem. There are students who will fight every child in class and be disruptive in every way possible, and the parent, when called in about this child's discipline, is worse than the child. In many of these situations, you have to address that as well because the parent had the child when they were too young themselves. I'm not saying this is an easy solution that will be fixed by "ten easy steps" in six months or six years. But I am saying, an effort needs to be made. I also know that the problem often doesn't start in High School. However, High School is the last step for most of these students before the real world shows up at their door, so this is where the true last ditch effort has to be made.

When a young, black man or woman comes into my office, and speaks relatively well - that is, he is coherent and cogent - despite some imperfect grammar, and tells me he has an I.E.P. diploma, I want to find out his High School, get up from my desk, and go wring the neck of every one of his teachers and guidance counselors, as well as his parent(s). An I.E.P. based on what? On whose recommendation and on what research?

Troubled or slacker white children are not being issued I.E.P. diplomas at this rate. I've dealt with several low-income white people who want to come to college as well. They have children. They are on welfare. They have records. However, most often, they do not have an I.E.P. diploma. Why us and not them? Because, if a white child is troubled, he just has issues that need to be worked out. If a black child is troubled, he must be unable to learn. He's basically just stupid, and since he's poor and disruptive anyway, he's not worth trying to save. So, is to not have a diploma at all better than an I.E.P.? Yes. Because no diploma says you didn't finish school. That's it. An I.E.P. says not only did you not really finish school, but that you were mentally incapable of going any further. The ratio of I.E.P. diplomas awarded to blacks vs. whites (just based on my daily work experience) is absolutely staggering. Absolutely staggering. I know there must be official statistics on this someplace, and believe you me, I will be researching them.

I was very lucky. I had many people to save me when I started hanging with the wrong crowd and fell into truancy, petty crime, etc. Up until High School, I was always in the tops of my classes, and these were at top schools in the city. I don't have a learning disability. Yet, if not for my parents and others looking out for me, I would likely have an I.E.P. diploma right now. Instead, I have a four-year degree from a well-regarded private institution (despite my personal experience with them), and a chance to attend an Ivy-League graduate school.

It starts at home, but it has to end with the teachers. We can't turn every bad apple, but we can certainly reduce the number of them. When toast is slightly burned, you scrape off the burned area - you don't just throw away the entire slice. Are two food metaphors enough? How about: When your car has a spot of rust on the rear bumper, you don't junk the whole thing.

Black parents:
STOP LETTING THESE SCHOOLS GIVE YOUR CHILDREN I.E.P. DIPLOMAS IF THEY HAVE NOT BEEN MEDICALLY DIAGNOSED WITH A LEARNING DISABILITY!!!! AND WHEN THEY HAVE BEEN, GET A SECOND OPINION AND THEN GET YOUR CHILD ACADEMICALLY EVALUATED AS WELL!!!!

No, it's not easy. My mother and father did it, and it wasn't easy, but they were able to do it and find it at very low, subsidized cost, or for free. It turned out that not only did I not have a learning disability, I, in fact had an I.Q. well above the national average. I wasn't a genius, but I was near it. It turned out I needed a more challenging course of work, and they found that when I received it, my temper and disruptive tendencies declined and my productivity increased.

It is so hard to pay the bills, put food on the table and keep up with the authorities' labeling of your child. But if you value their future, you will stop buying them FUBU and Phat Farm, and 100 dollar sneakers, and instead follow up on what's going on at their school.

Don't let your local government dictate your child's future.

Friday, November 7, 2008

My Mama on Obama...

"My thoughts are from the cotton field to the White House. Not that Obama ever was in the cotton field, but I'm sure some of his ancestors on his father's side were. Can't you just see God's Hand in all of this? Amen. I believe this is just one of the ways God is rectifying the injustice that was done to people like Emmett Teal killed at 14 yrs. old in 1955 for calling a white women honey, for those 4 little black girls that were bombed and killed in an Alabama church in 1964 (?) just to name a few. So my thoughts are:
'Amazing Grace, How Sweet the Sound...', whose writer was a slave ship owner, but when God opened his eyes to what he was doing, he wrote this song."

-- Mother

Just an Idea...

(Written at 1am after waking up suddenly. Returned to sleep immediately after)

Regarding God's existence: Belief, Trust, Faith, and Hope.

All are expressions of a lack of information, but Faith and Hope are expressions of doubt, whereas Belief and Trust are expressions of confidence.

Belief and Trust are ultimately different levels of the same thing. Belief and Trust require knowledge, even if the knowledge is unproven or indirect. It is possible to have Belief or Trust in the existence of a faraway planet because, though we can't see it, we see its gravitational effect on the star it orbits. We can infer that other planets exist, since we, ourselves, live on a planet. Belief and Trust are not knowledge, but they depend on some kind of knowledge or evidence.

As different levels of the same thing, Trust seems to be the more confident expression.

Faith and hope require little to no knowledge or evidence. Instead, they require will. People have Faith and Hope in something because they want that thing to happen, not necessarily because they believe it will. I have Hope that greed and selfishness can be eradicated, but I don't truly "Believe" it can be.

Faith and Hope are two levels of the same expression of doubt, but Faith appears to be the stronger of the two, i.e.:
"I Hope that greed and selfishness can be eradicated, but I don't Believe it can be. Still, I have Faith that our new president can help reduce it somewhat, since I Trust what I have seen of him thus far."

It would seem that the levels go (Top to bottom):
1. Trust
2. Belief
3. Faith
4. Hope

Trust is the strongest confidence without actual, full-on, empirical knowledge.
Belief and Faith are very similar, and sometimes overlap. In common usage, they are often interchanged to express the same thought. Faith is the stronger of the doubt expressions, Belief is the weaker of the confidence expressions.
Hope is the weakest.

Hope is pure will. Faith is a belief in possibility. Belief and Trust express that the possibility has evidence of reality.

It should also be noted, that though Hope and Faith depend on will power and lack knowledge in their implementation(s), that doesn't automatically negate the possibility of what the Faith and Hope are being applied to.

This is not an argument either for or against God. Rather, it is a search for an objective definition of the four most common terms present within these arguments, from which more cogent arguments (for either side) may then be constructed.

Theists can argue that they have Trust and Belief in their views, and Atheists can do the same.

Thoughts?

Commentaires?

Osservazioni?

Thursday, November 6, 2008

A Greater Society?

I was bothered yesterday when I found out that my co-worker didn't vote. Her reasoning was that the election was too racially charged and that she didn't feel it would have any impact on her daily life. Well, though both of those may be true, to me, they are not good reasons. You don't just vote for you, you vote for the nation. She believes that most who voted, voted only on race. She said that she talked to people who voted for Obama just because they were black.

This is true; there were many black voters who voted for him just because he was black. I've heard them in the street and on the bus. I actually overheard part of a conversation while walking, where a black woman said she voted for Obama because he was black and nothing else. However, she didn't come across as a regular voter, or the most educated voter. Rather, it seemed, she saw an opportunity and pounced on it - but without taking the time to learn about the man. But statistics say that had she been educated and voted regularly, she still would have voted for Obama - because he was a democrat.

The numbers say Barack Obama garnered over 90% of the votes of black voters. However, as my fiancee' pointed out, democrats have garnered at or near 90% of black votes since the 1970's. Obama is a democrat. Surprise, surprise. So, his being black is ultimately a bonus - not a reason.

The other reasons my co-worker gave for not voting were that she didn't feel it would have a practical effect on her life, and that politics don't interest her. In addition, she didn't live during the civil rights period, so she didn't have any connection to the history being made. Well, on the last point, I made a similar argument on this blog. However, my argument didn't cite that as a reason not to vote. Furthermore, my argument on that point was critical of young hip-hoppers who have exploited street culture, giving it synonymy with black culture, then claiming they did something great when they had nothing to do with Obama's election - in terms of their similarities of view and lifestyle.

On her first point about practicality in her life, my response to that is, what about the future of her children? It will have a practical effect in their daily lives. It will have a practical effect on whether they get to go to college affordably, buy or rent a home affordably, and on even smaller things like whether they can grocery shop affordably.

Granted, I also made the argument that I don't know that Obama's presidency will have an effect on my daily life practically - but I know it may have enough of an overall effect on the nation that I still voted. I didn't just vote for me, I voted for the nation.

I'm not trying to make the argument that I'm better than her because I voted and she didn't. In fact, I don't believe that, and couldn't care less about who's the better person, because neither of us is better than the other. I'm only expressing my annoyance that someone takes no part in the political process, then complains that things never change. My co-worker mentioned that politics do not interest her, but you don't have to have an interest in politics and follow 24 hour news coverage to cast a vote for what you feel will be a good leader. It's true; one vote doesn't make a difference - but all of those "one votes" add up - and that's where the difference is made.

I wholeheartedly believe that the same negative and divisive politics, as well as world strife and tension, war, famine, oppression, etc., will continue as long as humans are able to continue it. My fiancee' and I had an argument about this. She believes otherwise. But what we both agree on is that you can say nothing to complain about it if you do absolutely nothing as it happens. So why try to change things if you believe they won't? Because the difference ultimately lies in your character as a person, not in the change you failed to effect. And as long as you're trying, you may be surprised that you actually win sometimes.

I was at a family dinner with my fiancee' and my immediate family, when a man collapsed unconscious at a nearby table. He was at dinner with his wife and two other couples. The two other men informed all at the restaurant that they were "doctors". A couple of people jumped up to help, but they were told by the two doctors to not bother. The "doctors" also told the staff not to bother calling the paramedics. They were told that "he does this all the time". The people returned to their dinners. The staff, though attentive, returned to work. After a minute or two of the two doctors failing to wake their friend, I decided to tell the staff to call the paramedics anyway, and they did so. The "doctors", unbelievably, were not too pleased with me. Before the paramedics finally arrived, the unconscious doctor finally woke up, but was dazed and confused, and they ultimately made use of the paramedics' stretcher to wheel him out,if nothing else.

Beyond the use of the stretcher, I don't know if the paramedics were sent on their merry way when they got outside, or if they ultimately took the formerly unconscious doctor to the hospital. Clearly, if he passed out like that "all the time", he had a pre-existing condition and I'm sure his friends and wife knew of it. Still, had this been something different, or an escalation in his condition, and I somehow found out later that the man had died, I would not have been able to live with myself. It's not enough, to me, that I am "off the hook" because the "doctors" told me not to call the paramedics. As far as I'm concerned, I'm not off the hook, because if something had happened to him and I may have been able to help but did nothing, then I failed to act, regardless of what the "doctors" said.

"It happens all the time" is no excuse not to act. Women are raped all the time. Children are kidnapped all the time. Police brutality happens all the time. Should we not act when we happen upon those instances? A woman raped in Kansas, a child kidnapped in Florida and a police beating in California have no immediate impact on me. But if I had the chance to vote for a law against it, should I not? And what if the time came when it did affect me? I would like to know that I tried something to prevent it. This is what is necessary to strive toward a great (or greater) society.

What's the difference if you vote and nothing changes? What's the difference if you support a law banning or supporting stem cell research? What's the difference if you pull a violent man off of a screaming woman and he gets no jail time anyway?

The difference is you.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

32... more musings...

32.

I can honestly say I never thought I'd see a black president in my lifetime, and projecting, based on my current health and lifestyle, I should live until at least 2060. So, it makes me happy to see it at 32. I don't know that Barack Obama's election will mean anything for me practically, but symbolically, it means a whole hell of a fucking lot.

Hooray for black elitist, terrorist sympathizing, bleeding heart Muslim socialist liberals with western leadership ambition everywhere!!!!!!!

*--------------------------------------------------------*

I stared at myself in the mirror this morning, expressionless, for about 10 minutes. I do this almost every morning, and sometimes for a lot longer. I can see the age. No real wrinkles, no bags under the eyes, but some added weight in the chin and jowl areas. Why aren't there exercises you can do for the face? Actually, I don't look too different from the photo at the top/right of this page - just slightly. But it's enough to tell me that I need to do something now to slow this gain. I already have a big head, I don't need a fat face to accentuate it.

*--------------------------------------------------------*

I've been told that photographers take photographs, but I am determined to defeat this absurd stereotype. Where is is it written that a photographer does anything relating to photography?

I haven't truly done my own photography for several years now. I only pick up my camera now if someone pays me to (Like my upcoming project with the Cleveland Public Theater). True, it's been because of the expense, not the desire. My professional jobs don't yet pay me enough to shoot when I'm not on a professional job, and those jobs are few and far in between - especially these days. My temp job doesn't leave me the time (I'm temp, but full-time). So do I continue referring to myself as a photographer? I haven't done my own personal art project in at LEAST 3 years. You wouldn't go around calling yourself a taxi driver in the present tense if you hadn't driven a taxi in three years, whether by choice or not.

I continue to call myself a photographer, but I'm just clinging to something in my past at this point - it seems. If I had the money to pick up my camera again I would, but until then...

So, now what? Go digital. It's cheaper, they say. Well, not to start. All of that upgrading to professional digital is expensive. A low-end professional quality digital camera is around $1000. That's before printers and software and lights, etc. Don't forget the scans of the majority of my film to high-res digital files. So now I need a scanner too.

Sigh...

*--------------------------------------------------------*

My death has been my primary concern since my father's funeral in 1986. Preoccupied, would you say? Obsessed, even? Many of my sketches up to about age 25 have pages and pages of tombstones in the wilderness. I hope that when I die, it's of natural causes, and I just happen to be sitting on a tree-covered hill overlooking some other tree-covered hills, bisected by a river. Bear Mountain in New York State comes to mind.

I hope no one ever finds me and I can just decay in the open wilderness, nature reclaiming me to her bosom. I don't know how long that would take, but I would hope no one would find that area until I was completely dust. I like to imagine that my spirit would wander the hills and forests of New York and New England for eternity. Even if God exists, I can't imagine he can tell or show me anything more beautiful than that. If he does exist, I hope that he consigns me to that fate which I have just described. The only other thing I would be interested in is knowing the mysteries of the universe, and being able to travel to and experience them. Black holes, wormholes, nebulae, etc., etc., etc.

Maybe we could strike a deal where I get to go anywhere in the universe I want, but when on Earth, I am restricted to New York and New England.

*--------------------------------------------------------*

I talked with my mother by phone today, and, as has become the case lately with her, I feel better about everything. In the past, she's always found someway (even if not purposefully) to make me feel like complete shit after talking to her - even when we started on a good note. I always joke that my relationship with my mother is not unlike a Jewish mother and son (or, even daughter). My fiancee' thought I was insane when she first heard me say that. After spending some time around my mother and myself, she quickly came to see the merits of my position.

My mother, who lives in New York, has (without my prompting) let me off the hook of traveling to North Carolina to see my grandmother on Thanksgiving. I don't say "let me off the hook" in the sense that I didn't want to go. In fact, I would love nothing more. I say that, to mean, I can't at all afford it, and my mother allowed me to not feel guilty for that. She has no idea how much I appreciate that. I may still go to NY now, to see her, but I won't have the added expense of driving to NC.

Little as it may be, the gesture goes a long way in helping me deal with so many of the neuroses she caused in the first place.

Thanks mom.

(I guess this last one was neither a musing nor amusing) :)

*--------------------------------------------------------*

I don't like being 32. I like it less than 31, which I liked less than 30. 29 was OK. 28 was optimal. It wasn't the best time of my life, but I had two years before 30, so it still felt kinda distant. 29 was alright, but it was just a whole year of waiting to be 30.

It's narcissism; not about looks, but about accomplishment. I want to be young forever, because as long as I'm young, it's not too late.

Feets, don't fail me now!

Hooray!!! Black President!!! Except, hold on just a sec...

With this year's election of Illinois Senator Barack Hussein Obama to the presidency of the United States of America, blacks, everywhere in the country, celebrated. Blacks sang in choirs in church at special Tuesday night services, and gathered in bars and parks, and held parties at their homes in recognition of this truly great achievement.

The common sentiment was that "we did it!" and that we had "finally made it!" To a large degree, this is true. If not for Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers, Marcus Garvey, Shirley Chisholm, the thousands of black men and boys lynched, and countless, nameless others (like my deceased Harlem community activist father) who endured suffering, hardship and death, we may not have been at a point where a black man could even run for local office, let alone win the nation's presidency. Our parents and grandparents represent a second application for the term "Greatest Generation", and Obama owes much of his success in this country to them.

But for the younger generation of blacks, I would say, those of us below age 45, I don't know if that sentiment of "we have overcome!" is fully accurate: Barack Obama is extolled for his graduation of Columbia and Harvard universities, but this is in a time when increasingly less high-minded blacks, who have more public influence, have decided that education and hard work hold no merit, and that the way to be successful is to parade half and fully naked black women across national television screens and shout profanities. As well, Barack Obama's ties to the black community as a whole are, ultimately, thin. His mother was white, his stepfather was Filipino, and he was eventually raised by his white grandmother. The one tie he has to "blackness" is his father, who left him at age two, and whom he only saw once more in his life, at age 10. And though "black", his father was African, and therefore not a part of the "American black experience".

Now, I don't say this to make the argument that Barack Obama is "not black enough" to be considered black, or anything as ridiculous or as simplistic as that. Being of African descent (and having said features) is enough to make one black - no matter the particulars of how you grew up. I heard that same argument about him in the primaries and I felt (and still feel) that it was a ridiculous and superficial argument - in the way it was presented. It could have been made properly, but the mainstream media, with our own help as blacks, as usual, failed to delve deeper into the potentials of that argument. Instead it devolved and was reduced to conversations of "Does Barack Obama listen to Hip-Hop?" and "Will he support Welfare?" My point here - about Obama's lineage - is only to say that, though this is a major step forward for black Americans, and a "victory" even, that the enthusiasm should be tempered somewhat. And here's why:

The election of Barack Obama will doubtless lead all whites and many blacks to the conclusion that since we now have a black US president, any black person can do anything they want in life, and there are no more excuses and "The Man" can no longer be blamed. This is a tricky area, because though I believed that even before Barack Obama ever even ran for president, there are exceptions and loopholes, and those will now be dismissed more routinely than in the past, setting up a new way for discrimination to rear its ugly head.

When John McCain started running ads claiming that, now President-Elect, Obama was merely a celebrity without substance, many (myself included) thought it was something of a reach. Certainly, Obama has reached a celebrity status, for a politician, not seen in this country since the Kennedys. But many were convinced that Obama was substantive as well, even if he wasn't always able to fully communicate that substance. And that inability of Obama to communicate his ideas clearly to the American people, was largely our fault - for having short attention spans and disinterest in true knowledge. Indeed, Obama was lambasted for being "too professorial". It was often argued (not in so many words) that he needed to dumb-down his communications to reach people more effectively.

But McCain, with his celebrity comment, was onto something in a way that no one realized: that celebrity, that Obama had acquired, was a large part of the reason that he could win a primary, let alone be elected president. That celebrity, allowed Barack Obama to surmount hurdles that ordinary black people, in everyday life, cannot surmount.

When I worked in New York City in TV and TV commercial production, I worked hard toward being a crew member. I started out as a production assistant, but I wanted to be a Grip and / or Set Lighting Technician. In my pursuits, I ran into many very helpful white people who wanted to give me a chance - I ran into more who didn't. Of the ones who did want to help me reach my short term goal, many had their hands tied - they were union, I was non-union and hadn't worked enough to be considered for the union. They couldn't get me onto union jobs, and often times, they were helping others as well, so when they worked non-union, they couldn't always call me because they were calling others also. So, sometimes I worked, and sometimes I didn't. I could accept that. That is procedural and bureaucratic and annoying, but it is understandable, and with time and persistence, can be worked around or overcome. However, in many cases, I was refused work simply because I was black. Of course, no one will believe that. "Not in New York." "Not in the liberal film / entertainment industry." Or, worse, "It wasn't race, you just weren't good enough."

Well, that would be fine, except, I had conversations with two people in which they implicitly stated (not explicitly, because that would create proof of the illegality of their actions) that they would never hire me, simply because they didn't like blacks. I know that sounds unbelievable to any non-black person reading this post, but blacks everywhere suffer this type of treatment on a daily basis, and whites who dismiss it do so because they can't in any way imagine that world still exists. But it does, and if you are black, but not a celebrity, you may (and likely will) still get denied a loan, a home, a credit card, a job, or anything else you seek over the next eight years (that's right, I said eight years). But now, there will be even less sympathy for you than before. Because "you have a black president."

So, Barack Obama's success at reaching the US presidency is due (in part) to the fact that his acquired celebrity status transcended his race. The same was true of O.J. Simpson (before his downfall), Michael Jackson (before his insanity), Michael Jordan, Seal, and any number of other black celebrities whose race was transcended because of their talent and abilities, which brings me to my next point: Barack Obama is talented and able, has great ideas, is inspirational, and may prove to be a very effective president. Absolutely, without a doubt, this was the large-scale reason why he was elected. But the fact cannot be denied, that for the black man who pursues becoming a union carpenter, things may not get any easier.

Another thing is important to note: Though Barack Obama personally decided to not overtly play on white guilt, he had to know it was in effect. Jesse Jackson types, who openly played on white guilt in the past - to the point of being accusatory - failed in their bids for higher office, because no one wants to be constantly reminded of a past mistake. Obama's genius was in "forgiving" white people, and allowing for them to feel whatever shame or guilt they harbored privately, instead of throwing it at them in fiery speeches. Obama didn't play on white guilt, and by not doing so, ironically, that guilt helped him be elected.

Only (thus far) in America, could a black man be the "ruler" of a majority Caucasian nation. Also, only by being an American president, could a black man become the de facto leader of the world. For that, we should all be thankful; that we live in a western nation, if not THE western nation that allows for the correction of its past mistakes. But let us not lose sight of what is important in everyday life. What has happened is a milestone, but President Obama won't get anyone hired on their next job. Only their hard work and perseverance, coupled with the nation's own recognition of its past and continuing injustices, and a little luck, will do that.

Whites: Recognize that one, quite major, black success does not make all past and current injustices void. Do not dismiss your darker countryman when he beseeches your help.

Blacks: While not forgetting, do not cling to slavery and the lynchings and cross-burnings. To remember is to honor. To cling, is to enslave and lynch the mind. Remember, but press forward.

End Note: John McCain returned to the John McCain of old last night, when he delivered a heartfelt and sincere speech of concession of the election. This is the John McCain I missed during the election and earlier, in the later stages of the primaries. I hope that he will continue his distinguished service in the United States Senate in the manner of his pre-election self. That was when he was a true maverick.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

I did it! Well, not really... But kinda!

So I did stand-up for the first time Tuesday, 10/21, at an open mic at the Cleveland Improv. I sucked. But, of course. It was my first time ever, and though I put a lot of work into my first open mic preparation, and I was better than everyone else who went (at least on that particular day), I still sucked. Terribly. I did it again, to much the same result, on the 28th. I wasn't as good as I was on the first try, which means I was worse than when I sucked.

All in all, I wasn't as terrified as I thought I'd be, once I got on stage. I have near-crippling stagefright, and I was absolutely terrified up there, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. My mouth was completely dry, my chest pounded, but I was still able to speak and I didn't chicken out and opt not to go on. So, that's what made it better than usual.

The club manager, Lee, says I have a ways to go with performing the material, but he says the material itself is very solid, and with time and effort, I can pull a lot of great jokes out of it. I get laughs now, but I stumble on words and phrases due to my nervousness and, of course, stumbling during a joke is raid to the roach. There's no easier way to bomb, other than to outright NOT be funny.

So, I did it! Except, not really. I got on stage, told jokes, and got laughs, but I didn't feel fully comfortable or natural and I'm not able to pull the jokes out of the material the way I want yet. But, of course, the 28th was only my second try in as many weeks.

The thing is, who the hell do I think I am? To tell people to gather in a room as I stand under a spotlight, and tell them what I think? What makes me so important? One of the other comics, John Wellington, asked me, "Who did you think you were funnier than?" The answer: No one. I was around a lot of comics in NYC, and one thing I never thought was "I could do that - and better." It was never as confrontational as that. It was more, "Wow, I like what these guys do and I want to do that, but it looks hard as hell. I wonder if I could do it." So who the hell do I think I am? No one too important, but someone who does have something to say that I don't think is being said; whether that be hip-hop's oxymoronic, latently flamboyant homosexuality, or the idea that women make honest men lie to them, only to accuse us of lying when we're being honest.

I've been interested in trying to do stand-up for years (I chickened out in an NYC club once) but the fact is, I made a promise to a very special person whom I will never forget, who gave her life for me, intentionally or not, that whether I succeeded or not, I would at least try, and I've kept that promise, and then some. That person has given me something that no one other than that person could have given me, and though there is not now, and there never will be, a way for me to pay them back, I have learned a lot about myself, and have done things - and will do things now - that I would not have done before that person came into my life. The circumstances of our relationship make it inappropriate and tacky for me to thank her for her sacrifice, but I want her to know that it wasn't in vain. I am wholly and truly a different person now than I was before I met her, and for the better, though I abhor the way it had to happen.

From here on out, it's all gravy...

Monday, September 29, 2008

The Noble Ambition

Presidents aren't noble; they're just ambitious.

Or, so goes the conventional wisdom. Many agree that to run for the president of any nation, especially a western, world-leading, industrialized nation, and particularly the United States, takes a great amount of ambition, and says something about the ego of that person. No argument here. That's why I'm an artist. No ego required.

Or is there? Okay, so maybe you knew I was going there. Well, that still makes the question no less sensible. The question being: Are we, who pursue the arts, any more noble or any less ego-driven, than a presidential candidate?

Well, frankly, I don't know. But let's at least try to examine it.

At first glance, the answer may seem to be no. Many artists work in obscurity, and never seek the limelight. They are happy trading sketches or prints, etc., with fellow artists, or providing work for their family's enjoyment. Many simply create art for their own enjoyment. They make something, then they admire it themselves. Some try to sell their work, not because they want fame and fortune, but because they only want to do art full-time, and so would prefer to have their income derive from what they love. But they seek no more than enough profit to live without worry and to continue to afford to make their art.

Likewise (believe it or not), many politicians are very similar. Whatever their views, they believe that they have something to offer their community, and many politicians, though getting plenty done, happily work in relative obscurity. Who's the city councilperson for District 12 in New York City? Who's the mayor of Minden, Nevada? Did you know a state senator in Nebraska makes just $12, 000 a year? Chances are that you know none of the three. And there's nothing wrong with that. Nor do I (or, at least I didn't before writing this).

However, there are a substantial number of artists working toward eminence, and they are probably not greatly disproportionate to the number of politicians doing the same. I (for a time) was working toward notoriety, and I am friends with several very talented artists in many different disciplines doing the same. Obviously (or maybe not) we are not doing art just for fame. There are many other things we could do to more easily achieve that goal. We all love art, and do it because we love it. As well, we all feel that we have something important to say about (or to contribute to) the world we live in, and we all think this is information that we need to get out there, or no one may ever hear / see / feel it, etc. However, we would like some notoriety and financial stability to accompany it.

So, are our goals 100% noble? Of course not. We are human. We change our minds on issues. We learn. We grow. We're stubborn. We regress. We're cynical; all of those wonderful things that human beings are and do.

So why shouldn't a politician be expected to do the same? Granted, a politician's ambitions are probably more dangerous than an artist's. The great oppressive regimes in the world weren't created by artists. Now, before you get up in arms, I know Hitler was an artist, but people didn't follow him on those merits. However, it would be naive of me to say that art and its control didn't play a very important role in those regimes. Art absolutely swayed people. If oppressive leaders were the premise, arts were the supporting argument.

Still, politicians can't be expected to be completely noble, in fact, just as artists, they can often times be quite ignoble, and that is why the checks and balances system is so important. Artists don't need a checks and balances system (at least these days) because no one cares about us until it's too late. But politicians do, so we can avoid the "too late" scenario.

So, the looming, slightly rephrased, question remains: Are we, who pursue the arts, any more noble or any less ego-driven, than a political aspirant?

Short answer: No. But given power, we're likely less dangerous.


FYI:
Minden, NV has no mayor. It is governed by five elected advisory Town Board members.

NYC District 12 Councilman - Larry Seabrook (as of 9/29/08)

Friday, September 26, 2008

Real Life Makes for a Painful Movie

I thought I was in a bad comedy this morning by the creators of Scary Movie (3 and onward), Epic Movie, Date Movie, Meet the Spartans, Superhero Movie, etc., (yes, worse than those), when, on my way to work, I was passed, in succession, by two young black women, unrelated to each other, who were both pregnant. It's not that two is a lot, it's just that they were walking not more than 15 feet apart from each other in the same direction, and came off of the same bus. I was walking in the opposite direction. It was as if someone had just made a throwaway comment in one of those movies and this was the related descriptive scene.

I work in a poor neighborhood, which in some twisted way, makes me feel good, because though the neighborhood is black, there is not a high incidence of crime. Certainly there's plenty of niggerish behavior, but fortunately, it hasn't (largely) degenerated (yet) into violence and theft. But what I hadn't thought about before, is the high incidence of teenage pregnancy. These women were no more than 18, probably right at 18, and likely 16 or 17. I call them women because once you bear a child, unfortunately you can be a child no more. But make no mistake, in terms of age and mental maturity (if not innocence), these were children; teenagers.

I realized I had no idea how high the incidence of teenage pregnacy was in the black community - my community. Sure, I've read the statistics, but numbers on a page are not the same as living something day to day, and day to day, I see many pregnant mothers, as well as mothers with born children, and in many cases, mothers with both. For some reason it never dawned on me until this morning (which I know makes me an idiot), but this is a huge problem. Let me correct myself - I knew this was a huge problem. Several years ago I even began the process of creating a photoessay that deals with this issue (among many others in the black community). However, what I mean to say is, I had never experienced the problem on a daily basis like this.

Now, frankly, it's the mothers who really experience this, and I'm not trying to make their hardships and experiences about me. But what I mean is, I've never been around it to this degree, and it is troubling.

It has me thinking, again...

Here's to Friday (or Christmas Every Weekend)

Today is Friday, and I've come to feel that Friday is the best day of the week. It's the best day because if you don't completely hate your job, you get to spend time during the day working, thereby making money, and in the evening you can stay up as late as you want because you know you don't have to work the next day (for us weekday-ers). For some, that translates into going out to a dance club or a bar or a party or any number of nighttime events. For others, it translates into curling up with their lover and having a mini movie marathon. For others it translates into getting some personal work or hobbies done and sleeping in the next day. And still, for others, it translates into a night of energy-draining, mindless, mind-blowing, semi-coma the next morning, sex. For some it translates into all (or most) of the above.

For me, it means none of the above, as, due to a lack of exercise over the past year and a half, I have the energy for almost none of those things. And, because I work as a temp, I rarely have the money either. I do stay up though, because I can. It's like being a kid again in some way; a day (or evening) to regain the innocence and freedom I lost to rent payments, student loan payments, utility payments, credit card payments, tax payments, go nowhere jobs, murdered dreams and an adult body (and the hair to go with it). I can (subconsciously) be the kid who was finally allowed to stay up after a week of (in my case, not very) strong effort at school. I still enjoy Friday, because it's the anticipatory day. The day before the big day. The day before it all slowly starts to go to pieces, and subsequently, downhill. It's Christmas Eve.

Saturday is OK, but most people waste half of the day sleeping Friday off. There's nothing wrong with that at all. I personally love it. It just makes for a lot of rushing around to do things in half-a-day that could be done more leisurely with a whole day. Saturday is the equivalent of Christmas day. I try to get up early on Saturday. Sometimes it's very easy. Most times it is not. Whether I'm tired or not, sometimes I stay in bed just because I can. Now, granted, "staying in bed" for me really only extends to about 10am at the latest, and I naturally wake up around 7am on most days, period. That likely makes my Saturday a bit longer than others'. Still, despite the ability to sleep in remoreselessly (I'm positive that's not a word), Saturday kind of sucks. It's good in the morning, when you unwrap the present of "sleeping in", but for me, Christmas day always ended with a bit of a let down. Though not impoverished, my family had very little money, and after the presents, there wasn't much else. There was the cleanup of the wrapping paper, the discovery that the toy I wanted to play with the most needed batteries, and that my parents had forgotten to buy them (or in some cases, couldn't afford them until the following week). So there was all the elation of Christmas morning, followed by the gradual decline in spirit throughout the day.

My parents did all they could (and many Christmas' it was considerable), but even as the understanding child I was, it was still a bit of a letdown. And so, that is how Saturday feels. After the intital fun of sleeping in, and maybe even some morning-sex, there come the tasks of cleaning the house, doing the laundry, going to the bank, going to the post office, going to the store, etc., etc., etc. If you're lucky, maybe you get to go the park or the museum or play sports, or something, and hanging with friends and/or family may take some of the edge off. However, the chore requirements always introduce some let down, as so much of the remaining day is consumed by them.

Sunday (for me) is the day after Christmas. It's relaxing, and you may have little to do, but you know that the next day, things will largely be back to "normal" and the "holiday spirit" has already started to fade, if it hasn't completely done so already. Many are using the morning to relax after a chore and activity-filled Saturday, but they (who work) know the evening becomes the time when all the preparation for the next workday begins. The hair starts getting done, the clothes are laid out, the lunch is made, and the earlier bedtime is reintroduced.

I would wish for everyday to be Friday, but Friday can't be Friday without Saturday and Sunday, otherwise Friday becomes Monday, and that's the last day I look forward to seeing.

Come Sunday, the holidays are over.

Back to the regular, cruel world.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

A little help?

I currently work as a temp at a community college, where it's my job to sign people up for GED testing and classes. We have this free program (as many institutions do) to help those in the surrounding community acquire the ability to attend college. As I field several hundred calls and walk-in inquiries a day, it has become apparent to me that no one has our phone number or knows the name of our department. Students and staff alike are routinely transferred or forwarded to my phone and desk from other places that they have incorrectly called or visited. This has led me to wonder what the hell is going on? Why does no one know who we are, and why is it so difficult to contact us? At the outset, one might wonder if it is the ineptitude of those trying to reach us. On closer inspection, one discovers (for an as yet undetermined reason) that getting information on just about any place is nearly impossible. Even in the "cyberspace age", old or broken links, as well as misdirection, is pervasive. Why is this? I must re-ask the now cliche' question: What makes businesses think that less service is better business? Even for programs, services and businesses that generally want to be found.

For example: I recently needed to locate a nearby Staples store. I searched online, and after getting to the overloaded front page of their website, I finally found a tiny little link, off in a corner, that read "Store Locator". Great. I usually know where to look on a page to find such a thing, but because their home page is so busy, it took me nearly seven or eight minutes to see theirs. I clicked on it, and located the store I wanted. I got a phone number, which did not go to the actual store (though the site led me to believe it did), but instead went to a call center. The call center then transferred me to the store. Once I was transferred to the store, no one answered for an extended period, then when they did, they transferred me to the wrong department.

Now why would all of this happen? Well, corporate doesn't want you to walk into a store when you can buy online. The employees don't realize it, but they have been poorly trained in handling customers, in order to better serve corporate's goals. If everyone moves to online purchasing, corporate can then start closing stores, laying people off (those very same low-wage, poorly-trained salespeople), dramatically cutting their overhead in the process. Of course, their online prices are somewhat cheaper, but it is more than made up for (on your end) by the shipping charges. Sure, Staples doesn't get that money, it goes to FedEx or UPS or whomever, but that makes little difference to your pocket. It still stings.

Case in point, I was merely looking for a $2 sketch pad that I thought they might carry. They didn't have it in-store or online, but if they had, the shipping charges to have them send it to me were well in excess of double the cost of the pad. However, they (institutionally) did everything imaginable to keep me from 1.) talking to a human and 2.) coming into the store, effectively making it impossible (if not just very difficult) to buy it any other way (from them). All this, by the way, while doing everything imaginable to eliminate competition so that, despite the poor service, you have to spend your money with them. Guess it's the American way.

But why is this the case at a college or university, like the one at which I work? Surely, they must want students, as it means more revenue and exposure. This one is less obvious to me. Perhaps the gigantic bureaucracies which run colleges and universities are to blame. No one knows what the other is doing, every call is passed off and redirected and ultimately, students and prospective students are lost in the shuffle. Or perhaps academia is subject to the same trends as business. With more offerings online, they can cut some overhead by not having on-campus classes. Fewer buildings means lower real estate costs. As well, fewer professors can teach more classes online, allowing the schools to hire less. More students, fewer teachers and expenses, as well as the support staff that accompanies those things.

I don't know the answer, but I know it's infuriating. A little help? Anyone?

Monday, September 22, 2008

Fight Club '08

Another day, another post. With the (tantamount) collapse of the investment banking industry, and the conversion of the United States into France (or some similar semi-socialist Western European republic), I think of my fiancee'. She says we should have just let the banks collapse and started over again. I wholeheartedly agree. It would have hurt many, including the international markets, but maybe then, we could have some sort of moratorium on greed and the (huge) negative side of laissez-faire capitalism. Maybe then (maybe), poor, red-state people would finally start to see the Republican party for what it currently is - the party of the rich red-state people.

So, what am I, (country accent) "Some sorta damned communist?" Well, yes, frankly, to a large degree. But that doesn't mean I'm wholly against the "on paper" Republican philosophy. By the tenets of the REAL Republican party, I could be a Republican. I believe in small government. I believe in "pull yourself up by your bootstraps...". I believe in low taxes. I believe in self-determination and I believe in free AND FAIR trade. In fact, I believe in no government, everyone pulls his weight, no taxes, completely open trade and completely individual determination. Much like life would be on a small commune. So, I guess that makes me a Republican Communist.

But ay, here's the rub. In reality, the Republicans are all about big government, higher taxes, restricted trade, and party determination of what the individual should do. And we can look at all of this. So, let's do so.

SMALL GOVERNMENT
The Republican party, as it exists currently, advocates some of the largest, and sweeping government, and the least individual determination that the nation has seen. The party wants to determine whether gays (individuals) can be married to each other by passing legislation opposed to it (government). The Republican party, as it exists currently, wants to determine a mother's (individual) right to choose to have an abortion by passing legislation banning it (government). The Republican party, as it exists currently, wants to determine whether or not a citizen without insurance (individual) receives medical treatment by passing legislation against universal health care (government). Republicans are the very ones who support the legislation that bans the individual's right to decide when he / she should die. If you are in the hospital, in unimaginable pain, with a terminal illness, the Republicans want the government to tell you (the individual) that you are not allowed to have assisted suicide. Yet, if they lose millions in the stock market and pull the trigger on themselves, that is acceptable. They can have what they want. You can't. Each of these examples is an individual, and very personal right.

The Republicans, as they now sit, want to take these from you. They want the government to legislate whether two individuals who sincerely love each other can have the benefits a marriage certificate provides. They want the government to legislate an individual mother's right to carry a child to term, when that mother is no more prepared to take care of that child than she was to make it in the first place. Further interesting, is the Republicans' nearly unwavering support of the death penalty which, it is well documented, disproportionately affects poor, underprivileged Americans, and especially blacks. The current Republicans know that the child will have little opportunity in life, but in the apt and cogent words of my fiancee', Republicans want to punish any woman who conceives a child - even in cases of rape and incest, so they'll have someone to sentence to death in 17 years - or less (in Texas, a 15 year old was once sentenced to death). This way they can guarantee the further existence of prisons and we all know prisons are big business. Apparently, dooming a child to a life of little opportunity and much distress is perfectly acceptable.

So, the republicans want the government to determine who gets married, who gets to live, who gets to die, who gets health care, and let's not forget the famous "Patriot" Act, which allows the United States government to spy on ordinary American citizens domestically, supposedly in an effort to fight foreign terrorists internationally. That makes perfect sense, right? Oh, and by the way, if, in the future this is found completely illegal and unconstitutional (you know, like it is right now, but the conservatives have loopholed their way out of prosecution for now), they want the companies who assist in it to be immune from prosecution, under the guise of "They were just doing what they were ordered to do." Nazi troops only did what they were ordered to do. The American soldiers at Abu Ghraib only did what they were ordered to do. Let me also add that this is a major point where I diverge from Democratic presidential candidate, Senator Barack Obama (along with his position on the death penalty).

This all sounds like a lot more and a lot bigger government intrusion on our daily lives - at least to me.

LOW TAXES
Which party now wants to use taxpayer money to bail out the private financial companies that their buddies run? Where will all that taxpayer money come from? Well, taxpayers, of course. Let me appendix that by saying this is another point where I diverge from Democratic presidential candidate, Senator Barack Obama. He agrees with the bailouts (at least as of now). he only reason the republicans voted the measure down (despite it being introduced by their party) was that there were too many concessions for the average American. Go figure that one out: We're giving too much to the victims and not enough to the perpetrators.

As well, Republicans are known for (and proud of) being the party that spends the most on the military and weapons and war technology. More money for more spying on Americans and more weapons to keep them in place if they get out of line, as well as to assert our military dominance over the rest of the world. Where does that money come from? Taxpayers. So the Republicans are comfortable with corporate welfare but not individual welfare. Billion dollar corporations need the government's help, but not the impoverished individual. That sounds like the party that has lost focus on what the government's role is supposed to be. To stand up, help and defend those who can not do so for themselves. Indeed, instead of defending the weak, they build the military to suppress them.

PULL YERSELF UP BY YER BOOTSTRAPS
Well, the current Republican party has made this all but impossible. As Sen. Obama quipped, most no longer have boots to put straps onto. Additionally, many are in health states too poor to allow them to even lift their own weight, and lack adequate insurance coverage to help them get the care they need. Frankly, if the previous two sections of this essay were taken into account by the party, one could pull themselves up.

FREE TRADE
Laughable. It should actually be called: Free Trade Among Nations (including oppressive totalitarians) That Support the United States.

CONCLUSION
So why did I title this post: Fight Club '08? Well, one, it was an effort (I believe successful) to be cryptic. Two, because I envision a Marxist revolution (adapted to the time) to be the answer; the failure of the banks and credit companies, and the collapse of the investment banking industry, and a "reboot" if you will, of the United States' and world's economy. The difference is, I don't get to plant dynamite at the base of these institutions' headquarters.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Fun While Wasted or Wasted Fun?

(originally written as an essay 5/3/06)
I’d like someone to explain to me the “fun” in being “wasted”. I couldn’t help but overhear a group of my contemporaries at work the other day, discussing where they were going after work to “get wasted”. As usual, this dissolved into talk about the previous week when they got “wasted”, or “smashed”, “blasted”, “blitzed”, "shit-faced" or some other slang-ed adjective, all (supposedly) in the pursuit of the ever-elusive “fun”. Maybe I’m wrong here, but I’ve always held the notion that getting so drunk that you had to be carried home in a wheelbarrow was the domain of burned out cops and disgruntled and bitter newspapermen. My belief about these cops and newspapermen, was that they had seen so much degradation of the human condition through their policing and reporting, and had grown so tired of their disagreeable marriages, that they preferred the idea of passing out on the sidewalk than continuing to think or going home to their wives. They hung out in an Irish pub at late hours and the bartender’s name was “Mack”. It doesn't sound (to me) like much "fun". Indeed, it was their (unsuccessful and destructive) way of dealing with their problems - and creating new ones to replace or compound them. Ok, maybe I’ve been watching too much of Turner Classic Movies, nevertheless, I haven’t quite come to understand why those who “just want to party”, don’t just party.

Now, I have to intimate that I’m not an idiot when it comes to the effects of alcohol. Some amount of inebriation is an enjoyable experience, and for many people, helps them “lighten up”. Alcohol is often a precursor to sex, so much so, in fact, that it sometimes seems to be mandatory for the continuation of the species. If you don’t agree, just ask Curtis and Charlene in any mobile home complex in the United States. A few beers have never hurt the chances of conception, and even seem to improve it. It calls back to the days when that bitter cop or newspaperman (or the people he wrote about) would burst through the door shouting “Doris! Come here!” Moments later, anywhere from ten to one hundred million potential micro-suitors would be heading up the birth canal, hoping to add another unwanted expense to the family, and annoyance to the world.

Personally, I’ve only been “wasted” once, and it wasn’t really by choice. My girlfriend at the time (now fianceĆ© – go alcohol!) had convinced me, to accompany her to hang out with a friend of hers. I don’t generally like hanging out with her friends because I feel I have nothing to add when two or more women are talking. They only turn to me when they want “the man’s opinion.” It’s the same when I hang with a group of white people and they want “the black opinion.” That being the case, I decided I’d best be unable to talk if my mouth was full of alcohol. Up to that point, vodka had been my favorite of the hard liquors, but I had never had more than a couple of shot glasses in an evening, and I’m not one to hold strong alcohol well. That night I had three tall glasses (or four, or five – who can remember at this point), each one roughly equivalent to about four shot glasses. I was actually doing well until I got to the end of the third (or fourth). I remember the bar being very loud earlier that evening, but after that third (or fourth) vodka, all of my memories are intermittent. I remember the bar being the same after I got drunk, in terms of activity, but there was no sound. The waitress would come over and ask if we needed anything from time to time, but I don’t personally remember hearing her. I just remember seeing her. I figure that’s what she had to be doing because why else would she have kept coming over? I do remember just zoning out and staring at the ceiling, chiming in to my girlfriend’s conversation when something caught my ear during my intermittent hearing return. I also remember trying to give the appearance that I wasn’t drunk, though I’m not sure how well it worked, since the waitress gave me a strange smile joined with a confused look on one of her trips over to our couch. It was as if I had just told a dirty (and bad) joke about space aliens and classical music and she was trying to find the humor, but instead her search for the punch line turned into the search for her customer's sanity.

The next thing I remember was saying to my girlfriend “We've got to get a cab. I won’t make it on the subway.” Then she asked me what was wrong, which is when I informed her that I was a sniff of alcohol away from vomiting. She didn't bother to ask why I thought a NYC taxi was less vomit-inducing than a subway. She did tell me she hadn’t even noticed, which led me to question how that was possible, to which she responded that I had maintained myself remarkably well. I got home and collapsed face down onto our unmade bed, wholly sure that I would soon be inhaling the dinner I was about to regurgitate.

I managed to keep my dinner down, but for all of the following day (and much of the next two) I felt as if my head and small intestine were two politicos who had overheard each others' opposing views on the merits of the Iraq war and decided the only way to solve their differences was to wrestle each other, upward, through my esophagus. During this period, I decided definitively (though I had decided, tentatively, years earlier) that being “wasted” wasn’t the thing for me.

But apparently it is the thing for many. I often overhear people bragging about themselves being in similar physical circumstances, leading me to believe that many people enjoy this state of being. "Dude, last night was awesome! I fucking puked my brains out all over this waitress, then again on my girlfriend. Let's do it again next week!" Indeed, the conversation at my job seemed to support that.

Still, no one can tell me why? The only explanation I’ve been able to get is so uniform and repetitive (everyone gives it) and so bland, that you would think I’ve just asked Ms. Universe why people like playing with puppies, “Because, like, you want to have a good time.” Though sufficient in the case of Ms. Universe, that answer doesn’t quite provide enough information in the case of why people drink themselves to oblivion. However, if ever one needed proof that the entire world can indeed see eye to eye on something, the proof is in that response. Ask anyone, anytime, anywhere, and that will likely be the answer you get. If you get any more than that, God bless you. I sometimes felt I was in a Lord of the Rings story, “One ring to rule them all.” Substitute the word “ring” with the word “response”.

Now, again, why people drink at all, is not a mystery. It can be quite tasty; I love a well-crafted beer and I often enjoy a glass of Sherry or Port, though I stay away from hard liquors after that vodka story. Historically, alcohol was often the safest thing to drink, water and juice standards not being what they are today. Fruit-bearing plants were more susceptible to disease in the past, as there was no crop-dusting or chemical injection to increase the strength of plants to resist disease, or to increase yield. Water was worse. When you could get to water, if you weren’t living under some immense historical empire, you had to contend with other creatures that used the same water, and the ensuing dangers, as well as microorganisms that could make for a very bad (and final) day if you ingested them. Alcohol was simply the way to go in most cases. It was as common to a meal in the 12th century as a distant, abusive father and repressive mother are in the 20th century. However, in social situations, people then would often drink themselves unconscious as well, all in the pursuit of that grand social paradigm of “fun”.

The late English Viscountess, Nancy Astor, once stated: “One reason I don’t drink, is that I want to know when I am having a good time.” I am inclined to agree with her sentiment, though I do drink, just not into a stupor. Is the fun in going out and having a good time, not in the going out and socializing, dancing, etc., that one does when one goes out? Perhaps people are at the bar or club because they actually want to hear this new band in Williamsburg that incorporates a plastic violin with a steel bow. Maybe tonight’s crowd enjoys music that sounds like a cat being killed while violently having its claws dragged along a chalkboard. Then again, maybe the only reason people can put up with that sort of thing is because they’re so “wasted” they’re not really paying attention anyway. Even if they are, they are probably too “wasted” to know what they’re listening to. Perhaps, though for the life of me I can’t see it, the fun is in being drunk. The 1st century Roman writer Seneca wrote: “Drunkenness is simply voluntary insanity.” I’m not sure if he was supporting or denouncing drunkenness, but if supporting, maybe he’s right. But then, what’s with what I call “proofing”, in which people (while getting drunk) have to catalogue everything they did to get drunk last time and how drunk they got? People have to prove that they not only drink, but can out drink you. You have to “catch up”. Personally, I’m happy to be “drank under the table”. I prefer to have my wits about me – few as they are. I’d like to think it’s a machismo thing, but I see women doing it about as often as I see men doing it; often I see women doing it to men.

But perhaps Seneca was on to something. Maybe after a week full of being jostled and mauled on the train, having flights delayed, being cut-in-front-of on lines, re-doing all of the work we did at the office because of a misplaced decimal, being rudely served at lunchtime then getting sick from that same lunch, only to get back to the office to redo what we already re-did, maybe getting wasted offers a recuperative escape. That’s understandable. However, if that is the case, and I believe that it is, I can think of many other “fun” things I’d personally prefer to do to recuperate, and getting “wasted” is not one of them. For me, if the “fun” is in "getting wasted”, then to me it’s all just wasted fun.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Small Town Values: Who Cares?

Can anyone really tell me what, exactly, "small town values" are, and why they are so important? Often, in an election year, or any other time the "issues" are discussed, the idea of "small town values" or "small town America" are heralded as some sort of great principle or set of principles upon which all decisions should be founded. Well, frankly, who cares what small town America thinks? Now, I'm acutely aware that no politician with any national aspiration - in the current climate - could dare utter such a sentiment and hope for anything less than a very public (and hopefully symbolic-only) evisceration, but I don't have any national political aspirations, and therefore am free to be honest about the reality as I see it. Small town America knows nothing that big city America doesn't.

Many of our presidents, and indeed, many of our greatest, have come from small towns. Small towns are some of the humblest, down-to-Earth and hospitable places in the country. Likewise, small towns can also be some of the harshest places for those who are different from the people in those small towns. Cities are often known for being some of the harshest places, but likewise, they can be very rewarding and hospitable as well. The difference is, cities often breed the more worldly, sophisticated of us who can not just tolerate, but embrace the differences in the world around us. Many who have come from small towns, have gone on to willfully live in cities because they "want to experience more". Is this not what we should want, and even expect from our representatives? I neglect to say leaders because, make no mistake, they are our representatives first. And, despite all the charms small towns have to offer, it is our big towns that make for big decision making and big ideas. Even small townspeople get to the world of big politics through big cities.

When we take small town politicians, and encourage them to retain small town ideas, then set them loose on the big world, we get George W. Bush. When you take a small town politician and encourage them to learn about the big world and place them in the public arena, you get Bill Clinton. Granted, many would dispute how great of a president he was (not me), but it's hard to debate that he is greater than George W. Bush. When you take small town politics onto the world stage, you get a nation built on the principles of individual liberty invading the sovereignty of another, for its own gain.

So shouldn't we stop marginalizing the city-dwellers? Granted, I am biased as an enthusiastic city-dweller, but I believe that enthusiasm holds merit (of course). The majority of the nation lives in cities as it is. Cities are polluted, dark, and isolationist. Cities are also cultural centers, diverse, and a melting pot for ideas. Cities act as ports for the small towns, with ships of knowledge arriving at their docks. Without cities, small towns would know nothing of the outside world. Perhaps that is what they want. But that is not what we need.

We need representatives who are used to diversity, and who not only tolerate it, but embrace it. We need people who can operate in a world and climate that is diverse and ever-changing, not holding rigidly to isolationism and the past. We need men and women who have access to ideas and varying points of view. We need representatives with vision, and vision means seeing the picture, not just my corner of it. I am sure to be lambasted for this city-centric view, but I am personally exhausted of the small town-centric view. Small town values are fine and well for Cassville, Wisconsin vs. Baraboo, Wisconsin, but when it comes to United States vs. Germany on Russia, we need a representative and leader who understands the world they are dealing with.

Small town values = small time ideas.

Musings at 32

32 came.

No pomp. No circumstance. No celebration. Just how I wished it. And still, I feel empty; lost and devoid of value in a world that defines that value as social status and financial independence. Well, I have financial independence, insofar as I depend on no one else to pay my bills, but not in the sense that I have actual freedom to do as I please with my life - because I can't afford it.

* * *--------------------

September 16th started out well. I woke up, actually left the Cleveland, Ohio apartment that I share with my fiancee', and did stuff. True enough, it was only grocery shopping, but it was needed and it felt good to get out and do it. Also, I managed to treat myself to a few things that, though trivial pleasures, I had sorely missed and enjoyed thoroughly. There was the Meatball sub I had at Quizno's. Then there was the $11 half-pound of prosciutto I bought at Whole Foods, along with some ground lamb sausage that I plan to try in a scramble this weekend.

My favorite discovery was the Ciabatta bread available at the Whole Foods in Warrensville. I had been looking for it (or Focaccia) at Dave's, with no luck and had settled on a Saloio as a replacement, but it really doesn't work as well for me because though it is texturally similar, it is a bit bitterer than the Italian breads.

There were also the downs of the day. There was the older white woman seated at the lunch counter where I waited to place my order for the prosciutto, who promptly closed the large handbag in the chair beside her that she had previously paid no attention to, and moved to the other side of her. This, despite me having my own bag over my shoulder and having both hands full of other items I had picked up in the store, and being dressed much like any artsy white teen on a beach. The difference, of course, was that I am NOT a white teen on a beach, I'm a black man ANYWHERE. Then, there was the finding-out that I was in the wrong line to order the prosciutto in the first place. No pomp. No circumstance. No celebration. No respect.

There were also the other white people in the store, the young, thin, hippie liberal women perusing the aisles for skin products, and the middle-aged white women who, when not saving their worldy possessions from me, were getting snippy with the staff. A noteable lack of men in the store, except those who worked there and a pair of (by outward appearances) well-to-do, middle-aged, black men. They weren't together, if you were wondering.

Another "down" came after I left Whole Foods to get back on the bus (I don't own a car in a city that seems to require it). I purposely walked about a quarter mile to a bus stop in a place that looked semi-secluded, where I could read quietly while waiting. The bus benches are in shelters, thanks to Cleveland's notorious winters, and so I sat on the bench, but wishing the bench were out in the elements. It was sunny but cool - around 68 degrees - a perfect day in my book. Then, this cunt of a young woman comes and joins me and lights a cigarette - inside the shelter, which, by the way, is about 6x4. I got part of my wish. I was pushed back into the sunny, cool, 68 degree elements, whereupon two young men and one older gentleman soon arrived at my secluded bus stop, and all lit their own respective smoking implements. No refuge for the lung healthy. No pomp. No circumstance. No celebration. No respect. No courtesy.

* * *--------------------

Aside from those happenings, the day went largely well. I got back to the apartment (I took the day off - despite not being able to afford to do so), and my fiancee' came home and surprised me with a carrotcake cupcake (she couldn't afford a strawberry shortcake), and being poor, as we are, had no candles. In place of it was a match, lit by another, and burning fast. She urged me to blow it out as its flame rapidly descended, threatening to set my birthday pastry alight. No pomp. No circumstance. No celebration. No respect. No courtesy. No money.

That may sound pretty pathetic, but despite having no money, it's that type of birthday I enjoy; the cupcake, the match in place of the candle, the simplicity. Of course, before I could eat the cupcake (and let me preface this by saying it was my own fault for asking, but how selfish and inconsiderate would I be if I hadn't), Simone' started going into a mini-tirade about what's going on in her family. It is a bad situation, and I wholeheartedly agree with, and feel for, her. But the thing I cherish most on my birthday is isolation and tranquility. Now that I'm in a relationship with someone, isolation is all but ruled out, but tranquility seems to have abandoned me these days as well. The thing I have looked forward to however, now that I'm in a relationship, is sex on my birthday. I suppose it's that primeval man-thing, that even the most educated, erudite, and self-restrained individual man still feels enslaved by. Women can have sex whenever they want. There's always a man ready, willing, able, and available for that. For a man, it's the reverse. Sex is a rare mineral that can only be mined in the perfect confluence of events. Birthdays are supposed to be one of those. Granted, we've been having a lot of sex lately (my fiancee' and I), but still, it's my birthday. Sure, it's a bit inconsistent with my general birthday philosophy, but I'm not completely without conceit. I'm still human - wait, let me check - yep, for now.

32. No pomp. No circumstance. No celebration. No respect. No courtesy. No money. No tranquility. No sex.

* * *--------------------

Much of the reason I so virulently abhor birthday celebrations is that they are so narcissistic. So I don't invite others to "celebrate" with me, frankly, I don't "celebrate" myself. Instead, it's usually just a day out of the year, where I forgive any destructive impulses I have as well as reflect upon the nature of my birth and life. My father died and was buried but a week before my tenth birthday, and since then there has been little celebration. Indeed, as I've gotten older, I've become more and more reclusive around my birthday, not telling anyone about it who would be in a position to wish me a happy one when it arrives, etc., and not making myself available to anyone but my mother and fiancee' on that day. However, 32 was different. Though starting fine (but ending differently), I no longer see recognition of my birthday as completely pointless. Now, in addition to the usual life reflections (and chance of sex), I reflect on growing older as, though I'm still quite young, I'm not as young as I was, and I never will be again. With this, I woke up in a sour mood today, and it continues. In 32 years and one day, I can not look back to a single worthwhile accomplishment in my life. No pomp. No circumstance. No celebration. No respect. No courtesy. No money. No tranquility. No sex. No accomplishments.

* * *--------------------

I live in Cleveland, Ohio. Let's take a trip back in time to 1995 when I first arrived at Johnson C. Smith University in Charlotte, North Carolina. There I am, hanging out with DJ, Keenan and James in front of my residence hall, staring at the beautiful bodied black women passing by, and talking to others. A couple of them look pretty interested in my past self, but let's see if we can pull me aside for a second. I don't look too disagreeable.

"Hi, Cory? Is it? I'm you from 13 years in the future and I go by Wesley there. Don't look so bewildered. Time travel is routine in my time. Let me just ask you a quick question, then you can get back to masquerading as an aspiring rapper or producer or whatever the hell it is you want to do. Oh, by the way, whatever it is, I can assure you that you haven't figured it out in 2008 either. If a Dr. Majer asks you about studying biology, jump on it. So anyway, the question is, where do you see yourself in 13 years, as of now?"

"I see. That's your answer? Forgive me, but I'm curious, I didn't hear the words Cleveland, or Ohio, or office temp job in there, among other things. I see. Well, of course, why would a rich rapper born and raised in NYC move to Cleveland to work as an office temp? You're right, my question does make little sense. I will take leave of you now." No pomp. No circumstance. No celebration. No respect. No courtesy. No money. No tranquility. No sex. No accomplishments. No future.

* * *--------------------

So just what DO I have? Well, to be true, I have quite a lot. I'm healthy, for one. That, in itself, is worth plenty. Next, despite her seemingly remarkably intense pursuit to drive me crazy and into an early grave, I still have my mother. And she truly cares (or seems to) about what happens to me. I have a fiancee' who is equally bent on driving me mad, and she also truly cares about me. I have two brothers who look up to me, despite the fact that they are both fully grown adults in their own right. I suppose I should be happy for that. I am, but I need more. I want more. And that is not selfishness. That is the desire of every thinking free man - to be a contributor to the world he lives in and I have not achieved that. Or anything else. In many cases I have been denied the opportunity. In others I have slacked. In others, I have been given a chance and worked hard, and failed. I don't blame the universe (wholly), but I do lament 32 years of nothing - even in (especially in) cases where I have given my all. From where I sit, I have no prospects for the next 32, making for (what will then be) 64 years of futility. My father died at 62. He thought his legacy would be me.

No pomp. No circumstance. No celebration. No respect. No courtesy. No money. No tranquility. No sex. No accomplishments. No future. No legacy.

No memory of my existence.

A social security number. Tax records. Statistical data to be collated by some computer of the future.

Letters and numbers on a headstone.

The measure of a man.