I just realized the other day that I might be suffering from PTSD. I've been conducting a mental review of past relationships and the damage I suffered during, and I've come to the conclusion that I've developed a fear of intimacy. The only real place that I can express my emotions is here in my blog. That doesn't bode well for future relationships. I can't tell a potential partner to go check my blog if she wants to know how I feel about a certain situation. Even though I know that written communication is far more effective than spoken, it's just not the way we do things here.
Towards the end of my relationship with my wife, I would tell myself that I was afraid to know the depths at which my marriage had changed me. I'm beginning to realize that I have lost my ability to trust. But I don't necessarily see it as a bad thing-it was trusting people that caused me so much trouble in relationships. Here are a few traumatic experiences that I have had that I know are root causes of my inability to trust:
1985-Mother of my son takes him and disappears for 4.5 years. I had no idea where they were. I spent the first year completely drunk. It felt as though someone had carved my heart from my chest and was stabbing it repeatedly. This feeling lasted, with this intensity, for at least 3 years. The next time I saw him, he was 7 years old and he didn't know who I was.
1992-Mother of my two daughters, who knew that the mother of my son snatched him to hurt me, does the same thing by literally kidnapping my daughters from my mom's house and disappearing. I searched for her, weapon in hand, but was eventually glad I didn't find her. An ex girlfriend talked me out of harming her. Inevitably, my daughters were returned, but the damage had been done. I could no longer allow myself to be close to them as I was before, fearing that they could be taken away and emotionally I could be wrecked. I closed a major portion of my heart down for protection.
2001-My girlfriend, after a 8 year relationship and my countless reminders that I want no more children, decides that I need a 4th. When I explain to her that in 3 years we both will have children in college and another child will make it financially difficult to support them, she files a restraining order against me insisting that I'm harassing her. I beat the fabricated charge in court, but I no longer trust her.
2004-Another girlfriend senses that our relationship might be ending so she tells me that she's pregnant. I call her bluff by threatening to have someone I know employed at Kaiser look through her medical records-she confesses it's a lie. I tell her I'll deal with her when I get back into town. She continues to call me-I don't take the calls. She leaves a voice mail informing me that all of my belongings at her house will be on the lawn when I return home. I then received a voice mail message stating that someone had broken into her house and stole $20,000 worth of my video editing equipment.
2007-I decide I can no longer financially support my wife, her two kids, and help my oldest daughter with living expenses while she's in college, so I inform my wife that we're separating-unless she can financially pull her own weight. She decides that she cannot-so I rent an apartment and await my move-in date. My wife and I get into an argument 3 days before I'm to move out. She throws a saucer at me, it hits me at the base of my spine, shatters and slices a 1-inch gash in my back. An altercation ensues, I'm arrested and my bail is $50,000. I borrow the 10% to post the bail from my mother, knowing that I have a $5400 tax refund check to repay her with. Not so fast. While I'm in jail, my wife takes the check to some shady character, they cash the check and she runs off with ALL of the money.
It took me almost 27 years, but I've finally arrived at the conclusion that I cannot trust women. Isn't that the very first lesson taught in the bible? For those of you who are sitting out there saying it's my fault-you're absolutely correct, it is. Had I treated these women like hostile citizens in my midst and not loving partners, I never would have exposed myself in ways I could be taken advantage of. So now I know-and I thank you all for such valuable lessons. And unfortunately any woman I decide to get involved with now will have to climb Everest to prove that they are worthy of even knowing where I live. I have too much to offer and even more to lose.
Here's the rub: women know that women are like this. They know women that fall into every catagory I've detailed above. They know that women behave like this. It's the main reason why women:
1. Don't like being pulled over by female cops
2. Prefer not to have a female boss
3. Don't trust one another around each other's mates
4. Always suspect the motivation of another woman
They know the treachery that exists amongst one another. Case and point. A close friend of mine was accused of fathering a child. When his girlfriend found out about the child, the first thing she did was order he get a paternity test. The child was 4 years old, and my friend never questioned paternity. But when his girlfriend found out, her first response, (and probably a natural one), was suspicion. Why? Because women know women. They hear their girlfriends talk about their own treachery. The test proved my friend was not the father of the child.
I'm not saying women are inherently evil-I'm saying they are prone to do some underhanded shit. So are men, but I don't date men so any treachery a man is capable of doesn't interest me in the least bit. I know I play the game as straight up as I know how-so whatever treachery another male has done to you has nothing to do with me. I bet you one's never told you you were the parent of a child that wasn't yours.
So now I am attempting to deal with my PTSD sans professional counseling. Why? Because it would be difficult sitting in front of a complete stranger telling him/her how dumb I was to think I could trust a woman. How could I be so stupid? Why would anyone think that you can trust them? That's the most ridiculous concept ever invented-trusting a life partner. I'm embarrassed to say that I'm probably the last person on earth to finally get it through my thick skull that you can't trust a woman. Women don't trust women-what's wrong with me? I trust my friends, and you all know who you are-without question. But most of my friends I've known for well over 20 years.
The spirit of a man in trouble can only rest when the trouble he faces vanishes. The spirit of a troubled man never rests.
R. Pugh
I am that troubled man.
TPOKW?
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
'O' Blackwater
I don't know how many of you who are familiar with the private security force Blackwater-it's a privately-owned, well-equipped, technologically advanced army....right in your backyard. Blackwater security, owned by mega-millionaire Erik Prince, has mercenaries in both the combat theaters of Iraq and Afghanistan and also were first responders for the Katrina disaster two years ago. The mercenaries do not answer to any governing body of the U.S.-they are a privatized armed force on U.S. soil.
There are several problems with this scenario that most Americans probably don't realize. Mercenaries aren't new. Throughout history they've played a vital role in the conquests of many nations. That in and of itself is a problem. These forces act at the behest of private investors and can even be used to overthrow a nation-even one as powerful as the United States. We already seem to have adopted the position that government is no good and that private industry take over most functions of government. I vehemently disagree. Private industry is motivated only by profit, and many a corporation has sacrificed public safety and the health and welfare of the public in order to serve that motivation. Enron was just the tip of the iceberg. Throughout history we've had the Exxon Valdez calamity, and the Union Carbide tragedy in Bhophal killing well over 20,000 when a gas leak at the plant poisoned citizens of the city. In both instances safety precautions seemed to be ignored and thousands lost their lives. It is difficult for me to accept that private industry can and will serve the interest of the greater population of the nation.
Having a fully-armed and equipped standing army solely at the behest of private industry is frightening. Not to mention the fact that any publicly traded company can be purchased, meaning any foreign entity could purchase Blackwater and immediately have a highly-trained, fully-armed, standing army right within our borders. For the first time in U.S. history, the acquisition of a publicly traded private entity could put a foreign troops on our soil. Some of you may believe this to be a highly unlikely scenario, but America is not without her enemies and with Wall Street's influence on K Street, at the right price, the sale of Blackwater Security to the highest bidder is not impossible. If the parties involved stand to make a sizeable amount of money, it's not beyond the realm of possibilities. I am certain that the sale of such a company would not take place without the scrutiny of the CIA or the FBI, but stranger things have happened.
There just isn't a need for a privately owned security force to exist here in the United States. The government was created to protect the rights and interests of every citizen of this nation. Private entities do not share the same interest, nor do they exist for the purposes of the general population. But they've so intertwined themselves inside the machinations of Washington, D.C., there has been a disconnect between the people and their government. Now the only people the government serves are those who sit on high in mahogany-trimmed board rooms, and draw salaries that can equal up to more than half the entire workforces' salary combined. Such absolute power, both financially and indirectly politically, doesn't bode well for the general population. These elitist feel completely separated from the rest of Americans. They consider themselves the uber Americans-those who, if they aren't above the law, they're certainly parallel to it. In their eyes, the laws do not apply to them. All the while American citizens sit idle while Rome burns down around them.
TPOKW?
There are several problems with this scenario that most Americans probably don't realize. Mercenaries aren't new. Throughout history they've played a vital role in the conquests of many nations. That in and of itself is a problem. These forces act at the behest of private investors and can even be used to overthrow a nation-even one as powerful as the United States. We already seem to have adopted the position that government is no good and that private industry take over most functions of government. I vehemently disagree. Private industry is motivated only by profit, and many a corporation has sacrificed public safety and the health and welfare of the public in order to serve that motivation. Enron was just the tip of the iceberg. Throughout history we've had the Exxon Valdez calamity, and the Union Carbide tragedy in Bhophal killing well over 20,000 when a gas leak at the plant poisoned citizens of the city. In both instances safety precautions seemed to be ignored and thousands lost their lives. It is difficult for me to accept that private industry can and will serve the interest of the greater population of the nation.
Having a fully-armed and equipped standing army solely at the behest of private industry is frightening. Not to mention the fact that any publicly traded company can be purchased, meaning any foreign entity could purchase Blackwater and immediately have a highly-trained, fully-armed, standing army right within our borders. For the first time in U.S. history, the acquisition of a publicly traded private entity could put a foreign troops on our soil. Some of you may believe this to be a highly unlikely scenario, but America is not without her enemies and with Wall Street's influence on K Street, at the right price, the sale of Blackwater Security to the highest bidder is not impossible. If the parties involved stand to make a sizeable amount of money, it's not beyond the realm of possibilities. I am certain that the sale of such a company would not take place without the scrutiny of the CIA or the FBI, but stranger things have happened.
There just isn't a need for a privately owned security force to exist here in the United States. The government was created to protect the rights and interests of every citizen of this nation. Private entities do not share the same interest, nor do they exist for the purposes of the general population. But they've so intertwined themselves inside the machinations of Washington, D.C., there has been a disconnect between the people and their government. Now the only people the government serves are those who sit on high in mahogany-trimmed board rooms, and draw salaries that can equal up to more than half the entire workforces' salary combined. Such absolute power, both financially and indirectly politically, doesn't bode well for the general population. These elitist feel completely separated from the rest of Americans. They consider themselves the uber Americans-those who, if they aren't above the law, they're certainly parallel to it. In their eyes, the laws do not apply to them. All the while American citizens sit idle while Rome burns down around them.
TPOKW?
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Entertainers vs. Politicians
I was showering this morning and thinking about a line in a song that I wrote, Supa' Star. The line goes, ..Life is good with the crib in Hollywood. At the Clipper game sittin' next to Meagan Good,. Of course I don't have a house in Hollywood, and I've never met Meagan Good (although one day I would like to make the little hottie's acquaintance). In the world of Hip-Hop I would be considered someone who's frontin'. As most of you know, you have to be shot 19 times, and survive of course, so that you have street cred' and then you can rap or sing about it. I suspect that is what's meant when hip-hop heads (HHH's) say keep it real. My concern is, why is hip-hop the only art form that is required to keep it real? The movie industry thrives on keepin' it unreal. So does the television industry. I am sure all of George Strait's Ex's didn't live in Texas. Even country music allows itself the artistic freedom to embellish-why do HHH's insist on it being real?
The flip side of that is the behavior of our politicians. If you ask a HHH about something a politician said, you'll probably get a response similiar to this: "Man you know all of those politicians lie." So let me get this straight, your Entertainers, you know the people that you party to and use to distract you, have to be honest but you're political representatives can be afforded the latitude of lying? Hold up, I'm confused. The scenarios on 50 Cent's latest CD have to be accurate, but your congressman can fudge the truth? WOW...can anyone say bassackwards? I don't care how many women Jay-Z got head from backstage, or whether it's a fabrication of the truth, I'm more concerned about someone taking my hard-earned taxpayer's dollars and pocketing them for their own nefariousness. We hold our entertainers to a higher standard than we hold our lawmakers and representatives. Seriously! You just ask someone about a political scandal and listen to their response-"Man, you can't trust a politician." It's a foregone conclusion and we've accepted this as status quo. This is sheer lunacy. They haven't pulled the wool over our eyes, they've literally blinded us with the entire flock of sheep!
But I have to admit, my concerns are selfish. Yes, I am disturbed by U.S. Senators who solicit sex in public bathroom stalls-but wait a minute, before I make my point, I just gotta say: THAT'S JUST NASTY! I don't care what your sexual preference is, how the hell do you get naked and carnal in a public restroom? That is singularly one of the nastiest places on earth. Disneyland purports to be the happiest-I'm declaring the public restroom one of the nastiest! And the public restrooms at Disneyland the happiest, nastiest places on earth! Back to my point. My concerns are selfish. Should my song Supa' Star become a #1 hit, I don't want anyone coming up to me saying, Yo' man, you ain't got no house up in Hollywood. I bet you never even seen Meagan Good in person! And they'd be absolutely correct. BUT DUMB ASS, IT'S ENTERTAINMENT. Not real life. Ok, here it is...I said it because the shit rhymed! Hollywood, Meagan Good. I thought it was genius. Now I have to face the boo birds because I'm witty with words but can't afford a house in Hollywood and Meagan won't return my phone calls?
Listen, as an artist and an entertainer, I want the same latitude that lying, thieving, public-bathroom-stall-sex-having, gay-playing-straight, head-in-the-oval-office-having, politicians get! (Sorry Clinton, I know everyone thinks you were the first black president but Lincoln actually holds that distinction. Why else would he allow himself to be credited with freeing the slaves? You know white folks love cheap labor). We all lie, damnit! I have friends that damn near have two separate families that don't know about one another-that's not a bigger lie than me trying to rhyme Hollywood and Meagan Good?" Jesu Cristo! Give me a damn break. From now on, I give rappers, hip-hop artists, grafiti artist, and b-boys PERMISSION TO LIE, JUST LIKE THE REST OF THE DAMNED COUNTRY. So now, 50 and The Game can play fight. And those of you who are foolish enough to choose sides and battle with one another in the streets, you can play fight too. Oh yes, all of you now have my permission to carry fake weapons as well. In fact, I know a guy who can get you a blank gun that looks authentic and we can have all of you equipped with the squibs that explode fake blood and you can even shoot each other up...and live to tell about it. No more of that 9 shots and 18 weeks in intensive care recovering from the real thing. You now have permission to do it up Schwarzeneggar-style (who incidentally is an entertainer and a politician).
As you know, this is all just tongue-in-cheek, but does anyone else see the irony in this? People who are supposed to pretend to be someone else are held closer to the truth than those who are supposed to really keep it real. I mean, come on, I really wish I could Unbreak Toni Braxton's heart, but It's just a damn song. Incidentally, Toni, if by some remote chance you're reading this, given the opportunity you wouldn't have to worry about anyone having to unbreak your heart if you were with me doll. Unless you're as nutty as Halle Berry, we'd get along just fine. But I digress.
So now here I am, a striving artist, afraid to release a song and have it go #1 because someone might color me a fraud because I wrote a witty line. All the while Larry Craig, the U.S. Senator from Idaho, who finds sex in a men's room with another man acceptable behavior, refuses to step down. What's this world coming to? I'll tell you what it's coming to: but not right now, I gotta go find a word that rhymes with Braxton.
TPOKW?
The flip side of that is the behavior of our politicians. If you ask a HHH about something a politician said, you'll probably get a response similiar to this: "Man you know all of those politicians lie." So let me get this straight, your Entertainers, you know the people that you party to and use to distract you, have to be honest but you're political representatives can be afforded the latitude of lying? Hold up, I'm confused. The scenarios on 50 Cent's latest CD have to be accurate, but your congressman can fudge the truth? WOW...can anyone say bassackwards? I don't care how many women Jay-Z got head from backstage, or whether it's a fabrication of the truth, I'm more concerned about someone taking my hard-earned taxpayer's dollars and pocketing them for their own nefariousness. We hold our entertainers to a higher standard than we hold our lawmakers and representatives. Seriously! You just ask someone about a political scandal and listen to their response-"Man, you can't trust a politician." It's a foregone conclusion and we've accepted this as status quo. This is sheer lunacy. They haven't pulled the wool over our eyes, they've literally blinded us with the entire flock of sheep!
But I have to admit, my concerns are selfish. Yes, I am disturbed by U.S. Senators who solicit sex in public bathroom stalls-but wait a minute, before I make my point, I just gotta say: THAT'S JUST NASTY! I don't care what your sexual preference is, how the hell do you get naked and carnal in a public restroom? That is singularly one of the nastiest places on earth. Disneyland purports to be the happiest-I'm declaring the public restroom one of the nastiest! And the public restrooms at Disneyland the happiest, nastiest places on earth! Back to my point. My concerns are selfish. Should my song Supa' Star become a #1 hit, I don't want anyone coming up to me saying, Yo' man, you ain't got no house up in Hollywood. I bet you never even seen Meagan Good in person! And they'd be absolutely correct. BUT DUMB ASS, IT'S ENTERTAINMENT. Not real life. Ok, here it is...I said it because the shit rhymed! Hollywood, Meagan Good. I thought it was genius. Now I have to face the boo birds because I'm witty with words but can't afford a house in Hollywood and Meagan won't return my phone calls?
Listen, as an artist and an entertainer, I want the same latitude that lying, thieving, public-bathroom-stall-sex-having, gay-playing-straight, head-in-the-oval-office-having, politicians get! (Sorry Clinton, I know everyone thinks you were the first black president but Lincoln actually holds that distinction. Why else would he allow himself to be credited with freeing the slaves? You know white folks love cheap labor). We all lie, damnit! I have friends that damn near have two separate families that don't know about one another-that's not a bigger lie than me trying to rhyme Hollywood and Meagan Good?" Jesu Cristo! Give me a damn break. From now on, I give rappers, hip-hop artists, grafiti artist, and b-boys PERMISSION TO LIE, JUST LIKE THE REST OF THE DAMNED COUNTRY. So now, 50 and The Game can play fight. And those of you who are foolish enough to choose sides and battle with one another in the streets, you can play fight too. Oh yes, all of you now have my permission to carry fake weapons as well. In fact, I know a guy who can get you a blank gun that looks authentic and we can have all of you equipped with the squibs that explode fake blood and you can even shoot each other up...and live to tell about it. No more of that 9 shots and 18 weeks in intensive care recovering from the real thing. You now have permission to do it up Schwarzeneggar-style (who incidentally is an entertainer and a politician).
As you know, this is all just tongue-in-cheek, but does anyone else see the irony in this? People who are supposed to pretend to be someone else are held closer to the truth than those who are supposed to really keep it real. I mean, come on, I really wish I could Unbreak Toni Braxton's heart, but It's just a damn song. Incidentally, Toni, if by some remote chance you're reading this, given the opportunity you wouldn't have to worry about anyone having to unbreak your heart if you were with me doll. Unless you're as nutty as Halle Berry, we'd get along just fine. But I digress.
So now here I am, a striving artist, afraid to release a song and have it go #1 because someone might color me a fraud because I wrote a witty line. All the while Larry Craig, the U.S. Senator from Idaho, who finds sex in a men's room with another man acceptable behavior, refuses to step down. What's this world coming to? I'll tell you what it's coming to: but not right now, I gotta go find a word that rhymes with Braxton.
TPOKW?
Monday, September 10, 2007
Are You Really a Prince?
People ask me this all the time.
"Prince," they say, "Are you really a Prince?"
"Of course I am." I respond. "I'm the Prince of Know Where?"
"Where the hell is that?" they ask.
"I am asking you. Know Where?"
"Well if you're a Prince, how come you don't know where?"
"Who said I didn't?" I retort.
"You did. You asked me if I knew where."
"If I ask you if you know where my house is, does that mean I don't know where it is?"
"That's different."
"How so?"
"Well everyone knows where their house is."
"How about an alzheimer's patient?" I ask.
"That's different." they say.
"How come everything's different? Is there anything the same in your book?"
"Yup."
"Like what?" I ask.
"I don't know. What does this have to do with my initial question?"
"Which was?" I ask.
"Are you really a Prince?"
"Of course I am, silly. I'm the Prince of Know where."
"And where the hell is that?"
"You tell me." I say.
"So you don't know, do you?"
"No, you don't know, otherwise you would have said so."
"This is going no where."
"Of which I am the Prince. See you do know."
"Don't talk to me."
TPOKW?
"Prince," they say, "Are you really a Prince?"
"Of course I am." I respond. "I'm the Prince of Know Where?"
"Where the hell is that?" they ask.
"I am asking you. Know Where?"
"Well if you're a Prince, how come you don't know where?"
"Who said I didn't?" I retort.
"You did. You asked me if I knew where."
"If I ask you if you know where my house is, does that mean I don't know where it is?"
"That's different."
"How so?"
"Well everyone knows where their house is."
"How about an alzheimer's patient?" I ask.
"That's different." they say.
"How come everything's different? Is there anything the same in your book?"
"Yup."
"Like what?" I ask.
"I don't know. What does this have to do with my initial question?"
"Which was?" I ask.
"Are you really a Prince?"
"Of course I am, silly. I'm the Prince of Know where."
"And where the hell is that?"
"You tell me." I say.
"So you don't know, do you?"
"No, you don't know, otherwise you would have said so."
"This is going no where."
"Of which I am the Prince. See you do know."
"Don't talk to me."
TPOKW?
Mr. Softie
I had a conversation with a close friend of mine about my recent posts and apparently I've been accused of becoming soft. Under normal circumstances, I would respond guilty as charged but it's not so much that I'm becoming soft, I've always been in touch with my emotions. I wouldn't be able to write love songs and sing them to a girl as I sit naked in the center of a bed of rose petals, covered only by the body of my guitar if I wasn't soft. I wouldn't be able to hold my 5 year old daughter so lovingly and tenderly and enjoy the caress of her soft hand on my face it I wasn't soft. I wouldn't be able to appreciate the love of my mother if I wasn't soft. I wouldn't be able to bask in the beauty that nature provides us daily in her sunrises, sunsets, and cloudy days (which I love so much because they depress me so beautifully) if I wasn't soft. And finally, I wouldn't be able to hear the voices of my ancestors speaking to me from beyond if I wasn't sensitive or soft.
With that said, those of you who know me well, know that I am no stranger to the bare-knuckle brawl. I earned a reputation in the street as a kid growing up. Although I wasn't feared, I was respected because it was known that I had no intentions of backing down, regardless of your size or your reputation. I was small growing up, but earned a rep as a giant killer. Most of my opponents were bigger, but hand-picked by me, (I picked the opponent I knew I'd have the greatest chance of defeating), and most had lost long before a blow was ever thrown. I would allow my opponent to 'pick at me' just long enough for them to think that I wouldn't retaliate. Once they were comfortable with what they perceived was my acquiescence, I would wait for the next bullying session and unleash a ferocious and unyielding attack. Most of these battles were easily won because my opponent would be caught completely off guard. Once word circulated that I had defeated someone I had no business defeating, the message was clear-I would fight, and I could win. Potential bullies were often discouraged, and I would normally be left alone.
Once there was a teen who had been harassing my younger sister at lunch and she brought it to my attention. I asked that she show me the boy one day and immediately I knew that a battle with him would be one I probably couldn't win. The boy was twice my size. This was a new school and I didn't have the benefit of my reputation. I devised a plan that would guarantee me victory without delivering one blow. This new school was in Orange County, CA and had very few African-American students. All told, there were about 30-50 black males out of a relatively large student body of about 2000. I gathered up 10 of the black students that I associated with daily and detailed my plan.
"There's a kid named Richard who has been harassing my little sister and I need all of you to follow my directions. I guarantee you there won't be any violence."
The 10 of them all agreed to participate. My sister and I then walked over to the bully.
"Are you Richard?" I asked the boy.
"Yeah who are you?" he answered standing up and approaching me.
"I'm her brother and I understand she's been having some problems with you." By now he was standing approximately 2 feet in front of me and he was prepared to do battle. But I then noticed him glance over my right shoulder.
"What are you going to do about it?" he asked but he seemed a bit distracted. I continued to stare directly at him.
"If she has a problem, then I have a problem and I don't particularly care to have problems. One way or another, I find ways to solve them." Richard seemed not to be paying attention to me anymore. His attention seemed to be diverted by what was taking place behind me.
"Excuse me, I'm talking to you." I said.
"Huh?" he responded.
"As I was saying, If I have a problem, I find ways to solve them. Now do we have a problem? I asked him.
"Uh..no. She's cool. I'm not messing with her. I was just joking, right Marian?" His demeanor seemed to change and he became extremely apologetic.
"So am I to understand I won't be hearing anything from her about you anymore?" I asked.
"No. You don't have to worry, Marian and I joke a lot. Right Marian?" Marian remained silent.
"That goes for her friends as well. Do you understand?" I said.
"Hey man, we're cool. No problem." he managed to say.
"Remember, Richard, if she has a problem, we have a problem." I said nodding my head in the direction to my rear, but never taking my eyes off of him.
"Hey, it's cool. I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it." He said offering his hand. Marian and I turned and walked away.
Behind me stood my 6' 1" friend Geoff, and strategically placed behind us stood the remaining nine students. They never spoke or approached, they just stood there-a silent show of force. As Marian and I walked away they filed behind us in an orderly manner and we returned to our lunch area.
"You won't be having any more problems from him, I guarantee you." I told her.
What I had told the other students was to stagger their approach. My sister and I was to approach the boy at first, and then one student would stand several yards back and off to my right. The others were instructed to give 5-10 second counts and to stand exactly where I asked them to behind me. As I finished my conversation with Richard, Geoff, the largest of us all, was to stand directly behind me-a true display of might. We were able to solve my sister's dilemma with only a perceived threat of violence. Had Richard not fallen for my bluff, I would have had a serious brawl on my hands because none of the other students had ever been in a fight before-they would have offered little help.
With those days behind me, I believe I should be afforded the opportunity to be soft in my waning years....wouldn't you agree?
TPOKW?
With that said, those of you who know me well, know that I am no stranger to the bare-knuckle brawl. I earned a reputation in the street as a kid growing up. Although I wasn't feared, I was respected because it was known that I had no intentions of backing down, regardless of your size or your reputation. I was small growing up, but earned a rep as a giant killer. Most of my opponents were bigger, but hand-picked by me, (I picked the opponent I knew I'd have the greatest chance of defeating), and most had lost long before a blow was ever thrown. I would allow my opponent to 'pick at me' just long enough for them to think that I wouldn't retaliate. Once they were comfortable with what they perceived was my acquiescence, I would wait for the next bullying session and unleash a ferocious and unyielding attack. Most of these battles were easily won because my opponent would be caught completely off guard. Once word circulated that I had defeated someone I had no business defeating, the message was clear-I would fight, and I could win. Potential bullies were often discouraged, and I would normally be left alone.
Once there was a teen who had been harassing my younger sister at lunch and she brought it to my attention. I asked that she show me the boy one day and immediately I knew that a battle with him would be one I probably couldn't win. The boy was twice my size. This was a new school and I didn't have the benefit of my reputation. I devised a plan that would guarantee me victory without delivering one blow. This new school was in Orange County, CA and had very few African-American students. All told, there were about 30-50 black males out of a relatively large student body of about 2000. I gathered up 10 of the black students that I associated with daily and detailed my plan.
"There's a kid named Richard who has been harassing my little sister and I need all of you to follow my directions. I guarantee you there won't be any violence."
The 10 of them all agreed to participate. My sister and I then walked over to the bully.
"Are you Richard?" I asked the boy.
"Yeah who are you?" he answered standing up and approaching me.
"I'm her brother and I understand she's been having some problems with you." By now he was standing approximately 2 feet in front of me and he was prepared to do battle. But I then noticed him glance over my right shoulder.
"What are you going to do about it?" he asked but he seemed a bit distracted. I continued to stare directly at him.
"If she has a problem, then I have a problem and I don't particularly care to have problems. One way or another, I find ways to solve them." Richard seemed not to be paying attention to me anymore. His attention seemed to be diverted by what was taking place behind me.
"Excuse me, I'm talking to you." I said.
"Huh?" he responded.
"As I was saying, If I have a problem, I find ways to solve them. Now do we have a problem? I asked him.
"Uh..no. She's cool. I'm not messing with her. I was just joking, right Marian?" His demeanor seemed to change and he became extremely apologetic.
"So am I to understand I won't be hearing anything from her about you anymore?" I asked.
"No. You don't have to worry, Marian and I joke a lot. Right Marian?" Marian remained silent.
"That goes for her friends as well. Do you understand?" I said.
"Hey man, we're cool. No problem." he managed to say.
"Remember, Richard, if she has a problem, we have a problem." I said nodding my head in the direction to my rear, but never taking my eyes off of him.
"Hey, it's cool. I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it." He said offering his hand. Marian and I turned and walked away.
Behind me stood my 6' 1" friend Geoff, and strategically placed behind us stood the remaining nine students. They never spoke or approached, they just stood there-a silent show of force. As Marian and I walked away they filed behind us in an orderly manner and we returned to our lunch area.
"You won't be having any more problems from him, I guarantee you." I told her.
What I had told the other students was to stagger their approach. My sister and I was to approach the boy at first, and then one student would stand several yards back and off to my right. The others were instructed to give 5-10 second counts and to stand exactly where I asked them to behind me. As I finished my conversation with Richard, Geoff, the largest of us all, was to stand directly behind me-a true display of might. We were able to solve my sister's dilemma with only a perceived threat of violence. Had Richard not fallen for my bluff, I would have had a serious brawl on my hands because none of the other students had ever been in a fight before-they would have offered little help.
With those days behind me, I believe I should be afforded the opportunity to be soft in my waning years....wouldn't you agree?
TPOKW?
Thursday, September 06, 2007
My Friend Richard
I have a friend named Richard whom I met some years back when I worked for a major communications company. He's a peculiar individual in the sense that he knows everything. Not like a know-it-all, he literally knows everything. I remember one day I was driving and was lost. I called him and gave him my destination and a few surrounding landmarks and he guided me to my end point without missing a beat. The conversation went something like this:
"Travel east for about 2 blocks and you should see a large white building to your right. Incidentally, that building used to be the old Lincoln dealership. For years they did business in that location and was family owned. After the corporatization of auto dealerships, they went out of business in '93...where are you now?"
Not only does he give directions, but he gives historical data on the surrounding location!
I was once having a conversation with him about a girl I was dating. He asked me what high school she attended and I told him. YEARS later, he remembered and brought it up in a conversation. I asked him how he knew and he reminded me of that old conversation we had. I learned at that very moment, with Richard, every question is a fact-finding mission.
But more than just being a walking Thomas Guide (which was one of his request for Christmas when he was a child), and an archival system of information, Richard is the most down to earth person you could ever know. He's deeply religious, but he never judges anyone based upon his belief. I, for one, am known for being adventurous in many ways, characteristics that religions frown upon. Rich has never judged me-even though he knows just about everything there is to know about me. Over the years, he's always been my good friend.
We have annual event(s) that we like to attend and no matter how long it has been since we've seen one another, we always try to get together for those events. One such event is the Los Angeles Auto Show. Richard, his cousin Alfred, and I have been attending this event off and on for quite some time now. Afterwards, we head over to Marina Del Rey and have a late meal at Jerry's Deli, one of Richard's favorite dining establishments.
This year we flew up to San Francisco for the Mac World conference and I'm hoping we can make this an annual event as well. Richard is the world's best tour guide. He provides factual data about every venue, building, street, bus, train, or bart route, business data, data on celebrities, politicians, ex coworkers and even member of your family (ok that was an exaggeration). During the entire one day trip, he entertained me with information.
I've never seen him angry, never heard him swear, never seen him drink-which makes us the most unlikely of friends because I'm a repeat offender of all the aforementioned. Of all my ex coworkers from that communications company, Richard is the only one that I keep in contact with, and who keeps in contact with me.
We used to work with a young lady whom I shall refer to as Madam "M". From time to time Richard will arrange what has affectionately been referred to as Lunch with 2 Dicks (because we're both named Richard). Don't read anything sexual into it-it's just 3 old friends getting together for lunch. This too we try to make an annual event.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that friends are extremely valuable to our existence and Richard has been a great friend to me. Periodically, I will feature great friends in my blog and I hope you readers enjoy meeting them as much as I've enjoyed having them as my friends over the years.
Rich, I love you like a brother and I am most fortunate to have you as a friend!
TPOKW?
"Travel east for about 2 blocks and you should see a large white building to your right. Incidentally, that building used to be the old Lincoln dealership. For years they did business in that location and was family owned. After the corporatization of auto dealerships, they went out of business in '93...where are you now?"
Not only does he give directions, but he gives historical data on the surrounding location!
I was once having a conversation with him about a girl I was dating. He asked me what high school she attended and I told him. YEARS later, he remembered and brought it up in a conversation. I asked him how he knew and he reminded me of that old conversation we had. I learned at that very moment, with Richard, every question is a fact-finding mission.
But more than just being a walking Thomas Guide (which was one of his request for Christmas when he was a child), and an archival system of information, Richard is the most down to earth person you could ever know. He's deeply religious, but he never judges anyone based upon his belief. I, for one, am known for being adventurous in many ways, characteristics that religions frown upon. Rich has never judged me-even though he knows just about everything there is to know about me. Over the years, he's always been my good friend.
We have annual event(s) that we like to attend and no matter how long it has been since we've seen one another, we always try to get together for those events. One such event is the Los Angeles Auto Show. Richard, his cousin Alfred, and I have been attending this event off and on for quite some time now. Afterwards, we head over to Marina Del Rey and have a late meal at Jerry's Deli, one of Richard's favorite dining establishments.
This year we flew up to San Francisco for the Mac World conference and I'm hoping we can make this an annual event as well. Richard is the world's best tour guide. He provides factual data about every venue, building, street, bus, train, or bart route, business data, data on celebrities, politicians, ex coworkers and even member of your family (ok that was an exaggeration). During the entire one day trip, he entertained me with information.
I've never seen him angry, never heard him swear, never seen him drink-which makes us the most unlikely of friends because I'm a repeat offender of all the aforementioned. Of all my ex coworkers from that communications company, Richard is the only one that I keep in contact with, and who keeps in contact with me.
We used to work with a young lady whom I shall refer to as Madam "M". From time to time Richard will arrange what has affectionately been referred to as Lunch with 2 Dicks (because we're both named Richard). Don't read anything sexual into it-it's just 3 old friends getting together for lunch. This too we try to make an annual event.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that friends are extremely valuable to our existence and Richard has been a great friend to me. Periodically, I will feature great friends in my blog and I hope you readers enjoy meeting them as much as I've enjoyed having them as my friends over the years.
Rich, I love you like a brother and I am most fortunate to have you as a friend!
TPOKW?
Darkness
Never let anyone convince you that the darkness of your skin is a curse. You are dark because of the light. We are God's people-we are people of the sun.
TPOKW?
TPOKW?
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
August, and Everything After (The Love Seasons)
It's something about the summer months that I enjoy and I miss August already. Even if I don't go to the beach or hang out like I used to, it's something about summer that says 'fun'. People seem more open and joyful during the summer; almost like during Christmas. Even though I know it's pretty much an act, I like it when the season changes the spirit of people. For a brief moment in time, it gives me hope.
So now it's September and I have to find something to do with these months. A while ago I had a fall romance that changed my entire impression of the cooling climate. She was 10 years my senior. Not too attractive but sexy in ways I wasn't used to. Plus she was cultured and very confident in herself. She took me to see the Phantom of the Opera and afterwards, we made love in the back of a limousine. We had dinner at fancy Italian restaurant and when I was leaving, the Maitre D' asked if I would like him to summons my driver. I felt very important. We would meet one day during the week at a hotel and then on the weekends. It only lasted 4 months, but it was the best fall I'd ever had. A few months ago I caught up with her and we had lunch. She was always abrasive for the first few hours and things hadn't changed. I remember sitting up and thinking to myself, "Why am I going through this?" We were supposed to go see a play, but I didn't feel the need to go through torture. I always felt like I was being punished for something someone else did. But the one thing I can never take away from her is the good feeling she gave me about fall-I always associate this time a year with romance-warm coats, walks at night holding hands in some fancy outdoor gathering spot. Thanks W.
When I was a kid, summer was always the time that I met new girls who were on vacation at a relative's house. When I was 11 I met Robin from Pasadena. Robin, who had an older brother named Miles, was so cute. She had befriended my sisters initially. When they all met, I was in Louisiana living with an aunt. When I returned to California and met Robin, I was immediately taken by her. She was mean, but somehow I was able to get beyond it. I remember our first kiss-it was at dusk and as the sun set and darkness became our ally, I pulled Robin close to me and stole a kiss...and then another, and then another. Later on that night, I could think of nothing else. I remembered everything about that moment. The way her breath came in short pants, the way she subtly moaned as our lips slightly parted and our tongues met. The way she held me tightly as though she stood at the edge of a precipice. Perhaps we both stood on that edge-it was heaven. I didn't get to kiss Robin ever again after that night. She went back to her regular old mean self-I think she pinched me once afterwards. That's as 'bout as close as I was ever to get to her again. There's an old photograph of my 11th birthday party, and in the shadows, if you look really hard, you can see the faint image of Robin. For many years afterwards I would stare at that photo and relive that memorable kiss.
One summer, the gods sent me Toni. Toni was the daughter of a friend of the family. She had two brothers, one older and one younger, and we'd all practically grew up together. Toni was a quiet, shy girl who I was always attracted to, but she was my friend's younger sister so basically she was off limits. When I was 13 there was an annual summer event that took place at Toni's parents place and lasted all weekend. Motorcylce groups as far away as Arizona and Texas would travel and attend this event in a rural part of California. Back then, black people would get together and enjoy one another without the shooting and killing that we see so much of today. It was an exciting time for a kid my age. We would always steal beer from the many tubs around the property and get tipsy. Saturday night, the brothers and I pitched a tent and camped out with the rest of the riders. Toni stayed in the tent with us for a few minutes and it was then we had our first kiss. Her brothers were there but paid us no attention. It was electric. I think she always had a crush on me, but this was the first time I acted on it. Eventually, her mother called her in for bed. But I wasn't done. I knew that her parents would be at work Monday so I told her we would continue then. On Monday I returned and lost my virginity with Toni. The funny thing is, I didn't see it as a big deal. I had always experimented sexually with girls, but had never really gone all the way. What we did was so innocent. I know that most people wouldn't look at it that way, but the adoration we had for one another was so natural and pure. It was beautiful to me at the time, and I still feel that way today.
The summer also brought me K and P. They were both girls who went to my church. We all sang in the choir together and they use to flirt with me at the same time. It was as though they both wanted me...at the same time. But that's far too much for a 15 year old to wrap his head around. K and I had our chance one night when my mother went out of town and my two sisters and I stayed the night at her house. We met in the living room after everyone had fallen asleep and engaged in extreme heavy petting. We didn't have intercourse, but it was definitely an erotic experience.
Not long after, our church boarded our bus and took a trip to Los Angeles to fellowship with a sister church. On the trip back, P and I sat next to one another. I was no stranger to touching her, we'd done so so many times before. On this particular occasion, I slipped my hand underneath her dress and played with her all the way home. We both were so horny. The irony of the situation was that my mother was sitting two seats in front of us. When we arrived back at our church, I told her that I wanted to see her again and she told me to come to the one of the parishioner's house the next day-she would be babysitting. I rose early the next morning, finished painting the trim on our house, showered and headed over. P and I talked for a while and then went into a bedroom. We too engaged in heavy petting but when she asked if I had a condom and I said I didn't, things came to an abrupt halt. Unlike with Toni, we were both aware of the dangers of pregnancy. We knew people at our school who had become pregnant and neither of us wanted that.
A year prior, I had an awful experience with a young lady. I was 14, she was 15 and her name was Gwen. This was during the Christmas break. Gwen was the granddaughter of a close friend of my mother. She and her twin brother were visiting from Arizona and the adults thought it a good idea that we all get together. For some reason that fact that we were teens going through puberty escaped them because nature was about to have an affect on Gwen, and she was about to have an affect on me. We all met at the shopping area in our little hometown. We did some post Christmas shopping and then took the bus back to my house. Little did I know, Gwen had expressed interest in me to my sisters. At the time, I had no interest in her. I already had an on again-off again girlfriend and Gwen just wasn't that attractive to me-but that was about to change.
When I was 14, I never cut my hair. It was long and bushy and never looked right. Gwen offered to braid it for me and I accepted her offer. This was the first time the two of us were alone together. It had been raining all Christmas break, and this night was no exception. You could hear the tap, tap, tap, of the rain on the rooftop as the Bee Gees song How Deep is Your Love played on the radio. I remember Gwen singing the lyrics in my ear as I sat between her legs, eyes closed, and she french braided my hair. Little did I know, I was subtly being seduced and it was working. All of a sudden she leaned down close to my ear and whispered "Very deep. At that moment my indifference to her changed-I was in love (or so I thought). Afterwards, Gwen and I were inseparable. We convinced our guardians to allow she and her brother to stay over and Gwen and I tried to be alone as much as possible. We kissed and cuddled but were always separated by my older sister Jenn. Jenn was very protective of me but I didn't see it like that at the time. I just felt she was meddling.
They had been at our place for at least three days and my mother decided that we all needed to get out of the house for a change. The 5 of us (Gwen, her brother, my two sisters and I) were dropped off at the theatre and for the life of me, I still cannot recall what movie we saw. After the show was over, we all exited the theatre-Gwen and I were holding hands. I saw my mother parked outside the theatre and we immediately let go of each other's hand, but not soon enough, my mother saw us. The ride home was brutal. There was this deafening silence in the car, and I knew that trouble was brewing. When we arrived at home, my mother immediately called Jenn into her bedroom and the door was closed behind them. I knew Jenn was spilling the beans. Next Gwen was summonsed into the room. I sat in the living room devising my defense. I was 14 and I felt entitled. Furthermore, Gwen and I were in love-she had told me so many, many times over the past few days. I decided I would stand up to my mother.
Not long after Gwen was dismissed, I was called into my mother's room. My mother sat on one side of her bed, Jenn the other and the questioning began.
"What did you and Gwen do?" my mother asked.
"Nothing." I replied sheepishly.
"Don't lie to me boy, tell me what happened."
That boy really stung-I was feeling like a man. My anger began to slowly build.
"I told you, nothing." I said, this time a little firmer. My mother's anger began to build as well, progressing much faster than mine.
"I'm not going to ask you but one more time so don't play with me. What happened." I knew that she meant business and I'd better tell her something and fast. I wasn't afraid of her, but I'd never been in this position before with my mother and I didn't really know what to expect.
"We just kissed and stuff." I said.
"IN MY HOUSE. HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT ME AND MY HOUSE IN SUCH A WAY!!" she yelled. "NONE OF MY OTHER CHILDREN HAVE EVER DONE SO!" I knew this not to be true. My older brother had once kissed a girl in the house, (prior to his defecting to the pink team), but somehow I didn't see how saying so would help my cause.
"YOU WANT TO KISS A GIRL, GET YOUR OWN DAMN HOUSE!"
Now here's where things all went south. It was bad enough I had disappointed my mother, but I was about to disappoint her and embarass myself even further.
"MOM!" I exclaimed, "WE'RE IN LOVE!!"
With that said, my mom rose slowly up from her seated position as though her backside was on a cushion of air. She seemed to float as she yelled,
"NIGGA! YOU DON'T KNOW NOTHING ABOUT LOVE!! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!"
My mother had never used that word towards me before and at the time I was too confused to understand, but later I learned why my mother reacted so negatively. She knew that I was too vulnerable to the cunning ways of women like Gwen and it disappointed her. I grew up with this idea that women were sugar and spice and everything nice. My mother, in some ways, was partly to blame. She raised me to be gentleman toward women. Always open the door; be polite and assist them when they were in need; never hit a lady. Where she failed was teaching me the difference between a female and a lady, and not to waste my chivalry on females.
I was hurt, shocked, and ashamed all at once. I took one look at my sister and, without speaking, told her that she was no longer related to me; she had just been disowned. The very next day, Gwen and her brother were taken back to their grandmother's house and I was heartbroken. I cried. We didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. School was about to begin and I had no interest in returning. My heart was crushed. But along with that pain was a hatred for Jenn. I felt she had sold me out. Afterwards, when she came into a room, I would leave. I wouldn't speak to her if she talked to me-to me, she didn't exist. This went on for about a week until one day I was standing outside and I heard foot steps approach, it was Jenn.
"Lil' brother, I know you're mad at me and don't want to speak to me, but there's something I need to tell you. When mom called Gwen into the room and asked her what happened, she said that you forced yourself on her. She said that she repeatedly told you no but you wouldn't stop harassing her."
I immediately spun around on my heels and broke my vow of silence.
"THAT BITCH SAID WHAT??!!!" I yelled.
"She said you tried to force yourself on her. But I told mom the truth. It was she that was chasing you and you didn't want to have anything to do with her at first." I thanked Jenn and apologized. I asked her why she didn't tell me before and she said that she knew I was mad at her and didn't want to talk to her. I've always loved my sister, but at that very moment, to know that she had defended me, I loved her more than anyone could ever love someone and that bond has not been broken to this day. She was my big sister again and Gwen, just like that, became my sworn enemy.
The most tragic part of that story is how naiive and vulnerable I was to the manipulations of a woman. That vulnerability was to rear its ugly head many more times throughout my years. But with each successive incident, I became more aware of my vulnerablities and sought to strengthen my weaknesses. I was a boy who lead himself to believe he was a man during a period in life where your hormones are doing wildly unimaginable things to you. Emotionally I was already a wreck. I had always felt alone and lonely, and someone had come along and made me feel loved and good about myself. It wasn't as though my mother made me feel bad about myself, it was just that I was a boy being raised in a house full of women and they had no idea how difficult this time was for me. I was coming into manhood and I had no one to discuss my mental and physical changes with. I often isolated myself in my room trying to find answers to what I was going through. Gwen came along at a vulnerable time in my life and took major advantage of me.
As the years went by, I had many more of these encounters with women. Some of them pleasant, others tragic. All in all, I can honestly say that I've had a love for all seasons and be them good or bad, I wouldn't trade them for the world-well, ok maybe some of them I would.
TPOKW?
So now it's September and I have to find something to do with these months. A while ago I had a fall romance that changed my entire impression of the cooling climate. She was 10 years my senior. Not too attractive but sexy in ways I wasn't used to. Plus she was cultured and very confident in herself. She took me to see the Phantom of the Opera and afterwards, we made love in the back of a limousine. We had dinner at fancy Italian restaurant and when I was leaving, the Maitre D' asked if I would like him to summons my driver. I felt very important. We would meet one day during the week at a hotel and then on the weekends. It only lasted 4 months, but it was the best fall I'd ever had. A few months ago I caught up with her and we had lunch. She was always abrasive for the first few hours and things hadn't changed. I remember sitting up and thinking to myself, "Why am I going through this?" We were supposed to go see a play, but I didn't feel the need to go through torture. I always felt like I was being punished for something someone else did. But the one thing I can never take away from her is the good feeling she gave me about fall-I always associate this time a year with romance-warm coats, walks at night holding hands in some fancy outdoor gathering spot. Thanks W.
When I was a kid, summer was always the time that I met new girls who were on vacation at a relative's house. When I was 11 I met Robin from Pasadena. Robin, who had an older brother named Miles, was so cute. She had befriended my sisters initially. When they all met, I was in Louisiana living with an aunt. When I returned to California and met Robin, I was immediately taken by her. She was mean, but somehow I was able to get beyond it. I remember our first kiss-it was at dusk and as the sun set and darkness became our ally, I pulled Robin close to me and stole a kiss...and then another, and then another. Later on that night, I could think of nothing else. I remembered everything about that moment. The way her breath came in short pants, the way she subtly moaned as our lips slightly parted and our tongues met. The way she held me tightly as though she stood at the edge of a precipice. Perhaps we both stood on that edge-it was heaven. I didn't get to kiss Robin ever again after that night. She went back to her regular old mean self-I think she pinched me once afterwards. That's as 'bout as close as I was ever to get to her again. There's an old photograph of my 11th birthday party, and in the shadows, if you look really hard, you can see the faint image of Robin. For many years afterwards I would stare at that photo and relive that memorable kiss.
One summer, the gods sent me Toni. Toni was the daughter of a friend of the family. She had two brothers, one older and one younger, and we'd all practically grew up together. Toni was a quiet, shy girl who I was always attracted to, but she was my friend's younger sister so basically she was off limits. When I was 13 there was an annual summer event that took place at Toni's parents place and lasted all weekend. Motorcylce groups as far away as Arizona and Texas would travel and attend this event in a rural part of California. Back then, black people would get together and enjoy one another without the shooting and killing that we see so much of today. It was an exciting time for a kid my age. We would always steal beer from the many tubs around the property and get tipsy. Saturday night, the brothers and I pitched a tent and camped out with the rest of the riders. Toni stayed in the tent with us for a few minutes and it was then we had our first kiss. Her brothers were there but paid us no attention. It was electric. I think she always had a crush on me, but this was the first time I acted on it. Eventually, her mother called her in for bed. But I wasn't done. I knew that her parents would be at work Monday so I told her we would continue then. On Monday I returned and lost my virginity with Toni. The funny thing is, I didn't see it as a big deal. I had always experimented sexually with girls, but had never really gone all the way. What we did was so innocent. I know that most people wouldn't look at it that way, but the adoration we had for one another was so natural and pure. It was beautiful to me at the time, and I still feel that way today.
The summer also brought me K and P. They were both girls who went to my church. We all sang in the choir together and they use to flirt with me at the same time. It was as though they both wanted me...at the same time. But that's far too much for a 15 year old to wrap his head around. K and I had our chance one night when my mother went out of town and my two sisters and I stayed the night at her house. We met in the living room after everyone had fallen asleep and engaged in extreme heavy petting. We didn't have intercourse, but it was definitely an erotic experience.
Not long after, our church boarded our bus and took a trip to Los Angeles to fellowship with a sister church. On the trip back, P and I sat next to one another. I was no stranger to touching her, we'd done so so many times before. On this particular occasion, I slipped my hand underneath her dress and played with her all the way home. We both were so horny. The irony of the situation was that my mother was sitting two seats in front of us. When we arrived back at our church, I told her that I wanted to see her again and she told me to come to the one of the parishioner's house the next day-she would be babysitting. I rose early the next morning, finished painting the trim on our house, showered and headed over. P and I talked for a while and then went into a bedroom. We too engaged in heavy petting but when she asked if I had a condom and I said I didn't, things came to an abrupt halt. Unlike with Toni, we were both aware of the dangers of pregnancy. We knew people at our school who had become pregnant and neither of us wanted that.
A year prior, I had an awful experience with a young lady. I was 14, she was 15 and her name was Gwen. This was during the Christmas break. Gwen was the granddaughter of a close friend of my mother. She and her twin brother were visiting from Arizona and the adults thought it a good idea that we all get together. For some reason that fact that we were teens going through puberty escaped them because nature was about to have an affect on Gwen, and she was about to have an affect on me. We all met at the shopping area in our little hometown. We did some post Christmas shopping and then took the bus back to my house. Little did I know, Gwen had expressed interest in me to my sisters. At the time, I had no interest in her. I already had an on again-off again girlfriend and Gwen just wasn't that attractive to me-but that was about to change.
When I was 14, I never cut my hair. It was long and bushy and never looked right. Gwen offered to braid it for me and I accepted her offer. This was the first time the two of us were alone together. It had been raining all Christmas break, and this night was no exception. You could hear the tap, tap, tap, of the rain on the rooftop as the Bee Gees song How Deep is Your Love played on the radio. I remember Gwen singing the lyrics in my ear as I sat between her legs, eyes closed, and she french braided my hair. Little did I know, I was subtly being seduced and it was working. All of a sudden she leaned down close to my ear and whispered "Very deep. At that moment my indifference to her changed-I was in love (or so I thought). Afterwards, Gwen and I were inseparable. We convinced our guardians to allow she and her brother to stay over and Gwen and I tried to be alone as much as possible. We kissed and cuddled but were always separated by my older sister Jenn. Jenn was very protective of me but I didn't see it like that at the time. I just felt she was meddling.
They had been at our place for at least three days and my mother decided that we all needed to get out of the house for a change. The 5 of us (Gwen, her brother, my two sisters and I) were dropped off at the theatre and for the life of me, I still cannot recall what movie we saw. After the show was over, we all exited the theatre-Gwen and I were holding hands. I saw my mother parked outside the theatre and we immediately let go of each other's hand, but not soon enough, my mother saw us. The ride home was brutal. There was this deafening silence in the car, and I knew that trouble was brewing. When we arrived at home, my mother immediately called Jenn into her bedroom and the door was closed behind them. I knew Jenn was spilling the beans. Next Gwen was summonsed into the room. I sat in the living room devising my defense. I was 14 and I felt entitled. Furthermore, Gwen and I were in love-she had told me so many, many times over the past few days. I decided I would stand up to my mother.
Not long after Gwen was dismissed, I was called into my mother's room. My mother sat on one side of her bed, Jenn the other and the questioning began.
"What did you and Gwen do?" my mother asked.
"Nothing." I replied sheepishly.
"Don't lie to me boy, tell me what happened."
That boy really stung-I was feeling like a man. My anger began to slowly build.
"I told you, nothing." I said, this time a little firmer. My mother's anger began to build as well, progressing much faster than mine.
"I'm not going to ask you but one more time so don't play with me. What happened." I knew that she meant business and I'd better tell her something and fast. I wasn't afraid of her, but I'd never been in this position before with my mother and I didn't really know what to expect.
"We just kissed and stuff." I said.
"IN MY HOUSE. HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT ME AND MY HOUSE IN SUCH A WAY!!" she yelled. "NONE OF MY OTHER CHILDREN HAVE EVER DONE SO!" I knew this not to be true. My older brother had once kissed a girl in the house, (prior to his defecting to the pink team), but somehow I didn't see how saying so would help my cause.
"YOU WANT TO KISS A GIRL, GET YOUR OWN DAMN HOUSE!"
Now here's where things all went south. It was bad enough I had disappointed my mother, but I was about to disappoint her and embarass myself even further.
"MOM!" I exclaimed, "WE'RE IN LOVE!!"
With that said, my mom rose slowly up from her seated position as though her backside was on a cushion of air. She seemed to float as she yelled,
"NIGGA! YOU DON'T KNOW NOTHING ABOUT LOVE!! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!"
My mother had never used that word towards me before and at the time I was too confused to understand, but later I learned why my mother reacted so negatively. She knew that I was too vulnerable to the cunning ways of women like Gwen and it disappointed her. I grew up with this idea that women were sugar and spice and everything nice. My mother, in some ways, was partly to blame. She raised me to be gentleman toward women. Always open the door; be polite and assist them when they were in need; never hit a lady. Where she failed was teaching me the difference between a female and a lady, and not to waste my chivalry on females.
I was hurt, shocked, and ashamed all at once. I took one look at my sister and, without speaking, told her that she was no longer related to me; she had just been disowned. The very next day, Gwen and her brother were taken back to their grandmother's house and I was heartbroken. I cried. We didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. School was about to begin and I had no interest in returning. My heart was crushed. But along with that pain was a hatred for Jenn. I felt she had sold me out. Afterwards, when she came into a room, I would leave. I wouldn't speak to her if she talked to me-to me, she didn't exist. This went on for about a week until one day I was standing outside and I heard foot steps approach, it was Jenn.
"Lil' brother, I know you're mad at me and don't want to speak to me, but there's something I need to tell you. When mom called Gwen into the room and asked her what happened, she said that you forced yourself on her. She said that she repeatedly told you no but you wouldn't stop harassing her."
I immediately spun around on my heels and broke my vow of silence.
"THAT BITCH SAID WHAT??!!!" I yelled.
"She said you tried to force yourself on her. But I told mom the truth. It was she that was chasing you and you didn't want to have anything to do with her at first." I thanked Jenn and apologized. I asked her why she didn't tell me before and she said that she knew I was mad at her and didn't want to talk to her. I've always loved my sister, but at that very moment, to know that she had defended me, I loved her more than anyone could ever love someone and that bond has not been broken to this day. She was my big sister again and Gwen, just like that, became my sworn enemy.
The most tragic part of that story is how naiive and vulnerable I was to the manipulations of a woman. That vulnerability was to rear its ugly head many more times throughout my years. But with each successive incident, I became more aware of my vulnerablities and sought to strengthen my weaknesses. I was a boy who lead himself to believe he was a man during a period in life where your hormones are doing wildly unimaginable things to you. Emotionally I was already a wreck. I had always felt alone and lonely, and someone had come along and made me feel loved and good about myself. It wasn't as though my mother made me feel bad about myself, it was just that I was a boy being raised in a house full of women and they had no idea how difficult this time was for me. I was coming into manhood and I had no one to discuss my mental and physical changes with. I often isolated myself in my room trying to find answers to what I was going through. Gwen came along at a vulnerable time in my life and took major advantage of me.
As the years went by, I had many more of these encounters with women. Some of them pleasant, others tragic. All in all, I can honestly say that I've had a love for all seasons and be them good or bad, I wouldn't trade them for the world-well, ok maybe some of them I would.
TPOKW?
Friday, August 31, 2007
She's Not Your Sister!!!!!
Man, why didn't I think of this before? I think I might have one of the reasons why black men and women can't get along-we keep referring to them as sisters. I know that seems trivial, but language is truly powerful. If you continually tell yourself something, eventually it can come to bear. Whatever you say can manifest itself into being-especially if you say it enough time. So then we're in agreement that their is power in words? So how then have we affected black male and female relations by calling each other brother and sister? If you think about it, we've actually been feuding like immature siblings. Not behaving as a unit, but like two members of a family competing over resources, attention from parents, etc. Sit back and really think about it. The real question is, who decided that we should call one another that? Was it black people themselves? It wasn't us who decided to call ourselves Negroes or African-Americans. In fact, I don't think we've named ourselves since we stepped off the slave ship. Furthermore, the whole brother and sister thing came about at one our most pivotal and revolutionary times during our stay here in America-the 60's. If there was truly a time in history that we could have instituted change it was during that period of black love, black pride, unity and revolutionary spirit. I, for one, am a revolutionary baby-I was born during that period and it has been the foundation of my beliefs as far back as I can remember.
Anyway....
We both know that anything Massa gives us ain't worth a hoot. He fed us the least healthy of the food. Gave us the raggediest clothing he could get his hands on-he could have sprung for some uniforms...come on, even a prisoner gets a uniform. He gave us the least desirable housing quarters. Broke up our families. He wouldn't let us read and gave us what I consider the most damaging element to our community, his useless, watered-down version of religion. So what makes us think that in this day and age he is going to give us anything worth having? I'm not sure where those silly terms brother and sister came from, but we truly are acting like immature siblings toward one another. Our sista's, like most sisters do, even go tell on us. That's right, go poll some of those young men sitting their asses up in jail, you'd be surprised how many of them up there because their sista went and told on them.
I don't want to sound like Malcom X, jr. but the one thing that white people fear the most is a unified black community. There's no competing with an awakened black people. The trickery runs so deep, do you know that in America if you're born with one drop of black blood you're considered black. But in any other part of the world, especially North Africa, if you have one drop of white blood you're considered Caucasian? Yes people...this is true! Ethiopians are considered Caucasians. Those Indians like Veejay Singh (golfer) that have that jet black skin but straight black hair? Caucasian. Yes. So then, what really is a Caucasian? And why the two different standards? The point that I'm trying to make is that there is power in language and something so subtle as calling your God-given mate your sister has to impact us negatively. She's your mate, not your sibling. And the majority of black folk I know highly detest incest. What is it doing to your mind to call this woman you have carnal knowledge with sister?
They are our women-let's drop the brother and sister schtick-especially since we can't really say where it came from. Perhaps if we start calling one another something else, something more appropriate, we might begin to see a change in how we relate to one another. I've got it....allow me to greet you all, my Black Queens.....
Gotta get to work.
TPOKW?
P.S. And ya'll gotta stop calling us worthless nigga's (I don't care how you spell it-it's got to stop). Deal?
Anyway....
We both know that anything Massa gives us ain't worth a hoot. He fed us the least healthy of the food. Gave us the raggediest clothing he could get his hands on-he could have sprung for some uniforms...come on, even a prisoner gets a uniform. He gave us the least desirable housing quarters. Broke up our families. He wouldn't let us read and gave us what I consider the most damaging element to our community, his useless, watered-down version of religion. So what makes us think that in this day and age he is going to give us anything worth having? I'm not sure where those silly terms brother and sister came from, but we truly are acting like immature siblings toward one another. Our sista's, like most sisters do, even go tell on us. That's right, go poll some of those young men sitting their asses up in jail, you'd be surprised how many of them up there because their sista went and told on them.
I don't want to sound like Malcom X, jr. but the one thing that white people fear the most is a unified black community. There's no competing with an awakened black people. The trickery runs so deep, do you know that in America if you're born with one drop of black blood you're considered black. But in any other part of the world, especially North Africa, if you have one drop of white blood you're considered Caucasian? Yes people...this is true! Ethiopians are considered Caucasians. Those Indians like Veejay Singh (golfer) that have that jet black skin but straight black hair? Caucasian. Yes. So then, what really is a Caucasian? And why the two different standards? The point that I'm trying to make is that there is power in language and something so subtle as calling your God-given mate your sister has to impact us negatively. She's your mate, not your sibling. And the majority of black folk I know highly detest incest. What is it doing to your mind to call this woman you have carnal knowledge with sister?
They are our women-let's drop the brother and sister schtick-especially since we can't really say where it came from. Perhaps if we start calling one another something else, something more appropriate, we might begin to see a change in how we relate to one another. I've got it....allow me to greet you all, my Black Queens.....
Gotta get to work.
TPOKW?
P.S. And ya'll gotta stop calling us worthless nigga's (I don't care how you spell it-it's got to stop). Deal?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The Gay Agenda. What's Really in their Closet
Those who are closest to me know that I've been kicking around this theory regarding the gay agenda and the cession of power that will undoubtly be yielded by non gays if the agenda is pushed to the forefront. I need to inject this caveat, lest someone accuse me of being homophobic. I am not, nor have I ever been afraid of gays (should I be?). I've had gay coworkers that I would spend time with (in group settings...watch it now), outside of work. I've had gay neighbors, and I even have a gay brother. Doesn't necessarily make me a supporter of their agenda, but it definitely should illustrate no ill feelings on my part toward them.
With that said, I've been wondering what the hell's been going on with our society. Several years ago a close friend of mine said that he recognized a feminizing of the American male. I didn't quite understand what he meant, but I filed it away like I do most things I don't understand with the hopes that some related stimuli will retrieve it at the appropriate time (happens this way for me all the time). I've noticed that their has been, over the years, a subtle attack on the heterosexual male. Think about how his image has been portrayed over the past couple of decades. It used to be he was a dedicated father (i.e. Father Know's Best and The Brady Bunch to name a few). Fast forward to the 90's and we have Homer Simpson and Al Bundy. The male as head of household has been reduced to a neanderthal whose limited intellectual ability always has the family in hot water. Whose image is this of the American male head of household? It isn't the heterosexual American male's image of himself-this much I can assure you. There are very few positive images of fathers on television these days. My Two Dads has me deeply concerned. The title itself seems like a primer. Once you get used to the title, even though the two characters in this sitcom are hetero, how easy would it be to portray two gay males as father types in the future (Six Feet Under anyone?)-you're already comfortable with the phrase my two dads.
Again, I'm not a homophobe, I just have to say that when an agenda is pushed to the forefront, power has to be ceded somewhere and it is usually ceded at the opposite polar end of the emerging agenda. This is why white's were up in arms during the civil rights era-they knew that any gains realized by blacks would somehow impact their social and economic standing. If a gay agenda is pushed to the forefront, heterosexual males would have to cede position in order to make way.
This isn't the first push in this direction. In my opinion, the Women's Liberation movement was a front for the gay agenda. First of all, most of the rights that the Women's liberation movement in the 60's pushed for (equal pay for equal work, bra burning (what man in his right mind would be against a bra-less woman), financial autonomy etc.), most women are silently retreating. Women have discovered that the work place isn't necessarily where they want to be and have started a slow, but steady migration back into the realm of homemaker. The Stay At-Home Mom's or SAHM's are proof that, to some women, the grass wasn't greener on the other side and that the pressures of dealing with the work place for some outweigh the benefits. What's been lost in the process is a generation of children who have been raised on fast-food and MTV.
Furthermore, I believe that the Women's Lib movement of the 60's and 70's was also pushed to the forefront to minimize and diffuse any gains that might have been realized by African-Americans during the civil rights era. The biggest benefactors of the civil rights era were white women. Definitely not black women and most certainly not black men. Most of the the jobs that went to white women were jobs held by black men. When there's an influx of workers into the workforce, more jobs aren't created, and if they are, they are created by bisecting the duties and the pay of one job description to make another.
My suspicions were further confirmed when I analyzed the last election, and once I share this with you, you might see the brilliance shrouded in the deception-I for one have come to admire it. Before I go forward, again, I have to say this is all theory and supposition on my part. It's my independent analyses of facts. It is neither scientific nor is it backed by any intense primary, secondary, or tertiary research-just my analysis of factual data. If you ask most Christians in this country about their experience with the 2004 election, they will probably tell you that they witnessed a demonization of gays. They won't call it that, but ultimately that's what it was. From what I understand, the republicans made their way to churches across the nation, showing them images of gay pride parades and festivals and warning Christians that if they voted for the liberal Democrats, this is what they would be voting for. No Christian in his or her right mind is going to vote for that which is considered an abomination by their religious doctrine. Now here comes the trick, and I'm basing this solely on the recent homosexual revelations that have taken place in the Republican party: Gays used anti-gay rhetoric to convince those most vulnerable to their rhetoric to vote for them....in droves! Brilliant!
Again, I was reminded of this this morning when I discovered the following revelation regarding Senator Larry E. Craig, Republican of Idaho. The Senator was arrested June 11th for solicitous sexual behavior in, of all places, the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport men's room. An undercover sting operation was being conducted by local law enforcement after reports of sexual activity in the men's restroom. It is reported that the Senator brushed his foot against a plain clothes officer's foot several times and waived his hand under the stall, reportedly a known signal to engage in lewd sexual activity. Allegedly, the Senator repeated this behavior until the officer, situated in the adjoining stall, showed his badge under the divider. The Senator claims that the officer misconstrued his intent. I don't know about you, but if someone behaved this way in the stall next to me, I'm not sure exactly what, other than you being deaf and needing toilet paper, your intent would be but a proposition of some sort.
Then there's the case of the Republican Governor of New Jersey, James McGreevy coming out of the closet and annoucing to the world that he was a gay American. There's Republican Representative Mark Foley's announcement of the same ilk. There are also rumors, all though none confirmed because no one wants to go on record regarding the matter, of the Republican Governor Rick Perry being gay. Again I have to reiterate the last entry has been reported as simply rumor, there are no factual data substantiating the claim. However, it has garnered enough attention to run in the Austin Chronicle.
I attribute many of these revelations to that bigoted, racist, pornographer, Larry Flynt-a man I for whom I have much admiration. He may have ran some seriously racist pictorials in his day, but make no mistake, Mr. Flynt is no friend of the U.S. government. And after offering a reward of $1 million to anyone who had proof of sexual improprieties conducted by Republicans, he opened a can of worms that leveled the playing field and made everyone's sexual misconduct fair game. In comparison, these revelations make indiscretions of former president Bill Clinton, who received a blow job in the oval office, seem like a college frat boy prank. In my opinion, we're sexual creatures and regardless of what our sexual orientation is, we're going to act on impulse. One has to decide what they consider more an abomination-engaging in a heterosexual act with a woman other than your wife in the oval office, or soliciting sexual favors in the men's room at an international airport. I think this one's a no brainer for Christians and non Christians alike. Of course both are considered sins in the bible, but if you had to pick a leader who indulged in either of two evils, which would you choose?
I think the attack on heterosexual males not only by mainstream media, but by the judicial system as well, indicates a hidden agenda that can, in my opinion, be directly linked to a perpetuation of a gay agenda. Who else poses a threat to the gay agenda? Certainly not women. (Most) women embrace gays-if you ever see a heterosexual woman with a gay male, you'd swear they were kindred spirits. There's a certain sisterhood that occurs between the two. And subconsciously I believe that the heterosexual female begins to wish that her mate was as sensitive and understanding as the gay male. She doesn't fully realize that for her husband to espouse any of this individual's behavior, it would make him less and less male. Furthermore, the survival of the species depends upon him being who he is. Never mind that-she needs a shopping buddy and My husband just doesn't understand.
Historically, if you've wanted to infiltrate a people, the easiest access is through their women. You can alter the blood line biologically and alter the social system through mental manipulation of a woman's inherent susceptibility to propagated stimuli. It is my belief that this is why the American man is having so many problems with his woman. She's been co-opted. The only time she has a problem with the gay male is:
A. When he's after her man and
B. When he's duped her into believing that he's hetero when in fact he isn't.
Other than that he's a pleasant distraction.
I'm not advocating the elemination of any group. In fact I believe that gays, lesbians, transgendered, and bi-sexuals should enjoy the protection under the law as any other citizen. I just have a problem with them seizing power and altering the very basis on any civilized society, the natural family structure. Make no mistake about it, the family structure as we've known it in the past is under attack! Women are encouraged to buck the system and behave counter to what would be considered acceptable in a family setting. She, almost sanctioned by law, can attack her husband and then have him arrested for spousal abuse. Women have used the court system time and time again to exact revenge on men and it seems obvious that this is their intent but the system somehow still allows this type of behavior. I don't think women even realize that they've been co-opted by a group of individuals that have but one use for them-reproduction to keep the species alive and flourishing.
Imagine this, and I have to admit this is some War of the Worlds stuff but here goes: Let's say that what I've detailed is true and the gay agenda is total domination. Gays have no use for heterosexual males so kiss them goodbye. And what would become of our beloved women? Well they would be held in captivity and used for breeding purposes only. They could be artificially inseminated to produce offspring whose males are indoctrinated into the lifestyle and whose females would be remanded to breeding camps. Scary? Now this is totally a figment of my imagination, but is it beyond the realm of possibility?
You decide.
TPOKW?
With that said, I've been wondering what the hell's been going on with our society. Several years ago a close friend of mine said that he recognized a feminizing of the American male. I didn't quite understand what he meant, but I filed it away like I do most things I don't understand with the hopes that some related stimuli will retrieve it at the appropriate time (happens this way for me all the time). I've noticed that their has been, over the years, a subtle attack on the heterosexual male. Think about how his image has been portrayed over the past couple of decades. It used to be he was a dedicated father (i.e. Father Know's Best and The Brady Bunch to name a few). Fast forward to the 90's and we have Homer Simpson and Al Bundy. The male as head of household has been reduced to a neanderthal whose limited intellectual ability always has the family in hot water. Whose image is this of the American male head of household? It isn't the heterosexual American male's image of himself-this much I can assure you. There are very few positive images of fathers on television these days. My Two Dads has me deeply concerned. The title itself seems like a primer. Once you get used to the title, even though the two characters in this sitcom are hetero, how easy would it be to portray two gay males as father types in the future (Six Feet Under anyone?)-you're already comfortable with the phrase my two dads.
Again, I'm not a homophobe, I just have to say that when an agenda is pushed to the forefront, power has to be ceded somewhere and it is usually ceded at the opposite polar end of the emerging agenda. This is why white's were up in arms during the civil rights era-they knew that any gains realized by blacks would somehow impact their social and economic standing. If a gay agenda is pushed to the forefront, heterosexual males would have to cede position in order to make way.
This isn't the first push in this direction. In my opinion, the Women's Liberation movement was a front for the gay agenda. First of all, most of the rights that the Women's liberation movement in the 60's pushed for (equal pay for equal work, bra burning (what man in his right mind would be against a bra-less woman), financial autonomy etc.), most women are silently retreating. Women have discovered that the work place isn't necessarily where they want to be and have started a slow, but steady migration back into the realm of homemaker. The Stay At-Home Mom's or SAHM's are proof that, to some women, the grass wasn't greener on the other side and that the pressures of dealing with the work place for some outweigh the benefits. What's been lost in the process is a generation of children who have been raised on fast-food and MTV.
Furthermore, I believe that the Women's Lib movement of the 60's and 70's was also pushed to the forefront to minimize and diffuse any gains that might have been realized by African-Americans during the civil rights era. The biggest benefactors of the civil rights era were white women. Definitely not black women and most certainly not black men. Most of the the jobs that went to white women were jobs held by black men. When there's an influx of workers into the workforce, more jobs aren't created, and if they are, they are created by bisecting the duties and the pay of one job description to make another.
My suspicions were further confirmed when I analyzed the last election, and once I share this with you, you might see the brilliance shrouded in the deception-I for one have come to admire it. Before I go forward, again, I have to say this is all theory and supposition on my part. It's my independent analyses of facts. It is neither scientific nor is it backed by any intense primary, secondary, or tertiary research-just my analysis of factual data. If you ask most Christians in this country about their experience with the 2004 election, they will probably tell you that they witnessed a demonization of gays. They won't call it that, but ultimately that's what it was. From what I understand, the republicans made their way to churches across the nation, showing them images of gay pride parades and festivals and warning Christians that if they voted for the liberal Democrats, this is what they would be voting for. No Christian in his or her right mind is going to vote for that which is considered an abomination by their religious doctrine. Now here comes the trick, and I'm basing this solely on the recent homosexual revelations that have taken place in the Republican party: Gays used anti-gay rhetoric to convince those most vulnerable to their rhetoric to vote for them....in droves! Brilliant!
Again, I was reminded of this this morning when I discovered the following revelation regarding Senator Larry E. Craig, Republican of Idaho. The Senator was arrested June 11th for solicitous sexual behavior in, of all places, the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport men's room. An undercover sting operation was being conducted by local law enforcement after reports of sexual activity in the men's restroom. It is reported that the Senator brushed his foot against a plain clothes officer's foot several times and waived his hand under the stall, reportedly a known signal to engage in lewd sexual activity. Allegedly, the Senator repeated this behavior until the officer, situated in the adjoining stall, showed his badge under the divider. The Senator claims that the officer misconstrued his intent. I don't know about you, but if someone behaved this way in the stall next to me, I'm not sure exactly what, other than you being deaf and needing toilet paper, your intent would be but a proposition of some sort.
Then there's the case of the Republican Governor of New Jersey, James McGreevy coming out of the closet and annoucing to the world that he was a gay American. There's Republican Representative Mark Foley's announcement of the same ilk. There are also rumors, all though none confirmed because no one wants to go on record regarding the matter, of the Republican Governor Rick Perry being gay. Again I have to reiterate the last entry has been reported as simply rumor, there are no factual data substantiating the claim. However, it has garnered enough attention to run in the Austin Chronicle.
I attribute many of these revelations to that bigoted, racist, pornographer, Larry Flynt-a man I for whom I have much admiration. He may have ran some seriously racist pictorials in his day, but make no mistake, Mr. Flynt is no friend of the U.S. government. And after offering a reward of $1 million to anyone who had proof of sexual improprieties conducted by Republicans, he opened a can of worms that leveled the playing field and made everyone's sexual misconduct fair game. In comparison, these revelations make indiscretions of former president Bill Clinton, who received a blow job in the oval office, seem like a college frat boy prank. In my opinion, we're sexual creatures and regardless of what our sexual orientation is, we're going to act on impulse. One has to decide what they consider more an abomination-engaging in a heterosexual act with a woman other than your wife in the oval office, or soliciting sexual favors in the men's room at an international airport. I think this one's a no brainer for Christians and non Christians alike. Of course both are considered sins in the bible, but if you had to pick a leader who indulged in either of two evils, which would you choose?
I think the attack on heterosexual males not only by mainstream media, but by the judicial system as well, indicates a hidden agenda that can, in my opinion, be directly linked to a perpetuation of a gay agenda. Who else poses a threat to the gay agenda? Certainly not women. (Most) women embrace gays-if you ever see a heterosexual woman with a gay male, you'd swear they were kindred spirits. There's a certain sisterhood that occurs between the two. And subconsciously I believe that the heterosexual female begins to wish that her mate was as sensitive and understanding as the gay male. She doesn't fully realize that for her husband to espouse any of this individual's behavior, it would make him less and less male. Furthermore, the survival of the species depends upon him being who he is. Never mind that-she needs a shopping buddy and My husband just doesn't understand.
Historically, if you've wanted to infiltrate a people, the easiest access is through their women. You can alter the blood line biologically and alter the social system through mental manipulation of a woman's inherent susceptibility to propagated stimuli. It is my belief that this is why the American man is having so many problems with his woman. She's been co-opted. The only time she has a problem with the gay male is:
A. When he's after her man and
B. When he's duped her into believing that he's hetero when in fact he isn't.
Other than that he's a pleasant distraction.
I'm not advocating the elemination of any group. In fact I believe that gays, lesbians, transgendered, and bi-sexuals should enjoy the protection under the law as any other citizen. I just have a problem with them seizing power and altering the very basis on any civilized society, the natural family structure. Make no mistake about it, the family structure as we've known it in the past is under attack! Women are encouraged to buck the system and behave counter to what would be considered acceptable in a family setting. She, almost sanctioned by law, can attack her husband and then have him arrested for spousal abuse. Women have used the court system time and time again to exact revenge on men and it seems obvious that this is their intent but the system somehow still allows this type of behavior. I don't think women even realize that they've been co-opted by a group of individuals that have but one use for them-reproduction to keep the species alive and flourishing.
Imagine this, and I have to admit this is some War of the Worlds stuff but here goes: Let's say that what I've detailed is true and the gay agenda is total domination. Gays have no use for heterosexual males so kiss them goodbye. And what would become of our beloved women? Well they would be held in captivity and used for breeding purposes only. They could be artificially inseminated to produce offspring whose males are indoctrinated into the lifestyle and whose females would be remanded to breeding camps. Scary? Now this is totally a figment of my imagination, but is it beyond the realm of possibility?
You decide.
TPOKW?
Monday, August 27, 2007
The Greatest Divide (exists between black men and women)
I don't quite know the numbers like I used to, but the average African-American home is headed by a single mother. The last figure I read was 35-44% but don't quote me on that. I was searching for a more accurate figure but I'm downloading a episode of "Weeds" from iTunes and it's a bandwith killer. But I won't let that belabor my point.
Quite frankly, I think that it's probably time we start entertaining alternative social systems because it's become evident that the present one simply does not work. At some point we are going to have to scuttle our thoughts and ideas surrounding the family structure and adopt something that benefits everyone involved-not just selected members.
As it stands now, my sisters, you've been awfully selfish. Most of what you want is extremely self-centered and doesn't work in a familial setting. You've become Americanized. Now I want touch on this subject a bit. In the men circles I travel in and around, one of the key concerns with importing a bride is her becoming Americanized. There has to be something to that word. It's truly a concern of most men and I think what that translates to is becoming self-centered and pretty much worthless. An Americanized woman benefits no one but herself-and even in that endeavor she loses. I know very few men interested in a woman who won't care for his kids, won't care for the household, and will destroy the entire foundation for her own selfish desires. I'll give you a couple of true life examples but the names have been changed in order for me to speak on it but still adhere to my tacit confidentiality agreement with the vicitms.
Lita, aged 40-something, is the wife of Shawn and mother of 2, William and Lena. Lita decides to take out a home loan unbeknownst to Shawn. She then throws the money away (I won't say how because that would betray my confidentiality agreement but suffice it to say that throwing it in the trash would have been a more honorable fate for the cash). She then hides any record of the loan from Shawn until one day he gets a phone call from his mortgage company explaining to him that his house will soon be in foreclosure. I won't go into detail any further but Lita isn't to be considered a Lone Ranger. There's Barbara.
Barbara, aged 40-something, the wife of Nathan and the mother of a single child. Barbara gets a personal credit card and charges a whopping $8000 with an accumulated interest of $4000-grand total $12,000. She then decides not to pay on said card for well over a year. Nathan is home one day watching pre-season football and receives a phone call from a collector who proceeds to tell him that a lien is about to be put on his house because Barbara done lost her goddamned mind.
I don't have to tell you that the future of these two women as wives is extremely shaky. What selfish motivation would cause these women to jeopardize the solid foundation of both their families and their homes? I'm neither of them so I couldn't tell you, but needless to say, both Shawn and Nathan had to pony up cold hard cash to save their homes. Now I would like to pose a question to you sista's out there: What should Shawn and Nathan have done? Should they have:
A. Sucked it up and take it like a "man".
B. Immediately filed for divorce and let the chips fall where they may.
C. Administer corporal punishment to their wives.
D. Allow their assets to be seized and let the well run dry.
Before you write to me and tell me that Shawn and Nathan picked the wrong women, I want to remind you that they picked "you". Not you per se, but you in general. Black women, black queens, sista's. And keep in mind that if this isn't outright you, you all know women exactly like this who run in your circles. You know that they are out there doing black men wrong, but you say nothing and you continue to befriend such people, which is considered implied consent. By not speaking out against these women, you are basically saying "There's nothing wrong with what you are doing."
I once knew a woman...let's call her Mandy (because that's her f*cking name-no need to protect this lower life form). Mandy was dating a U.S. Airman who was stationed in Korea. The Airman came home on leave for 30 days and had what I'm assuming was raunchy unprotected sex with Mandy. The Airman then went back to Korea. While he was away, Mandy was screwing several young men, one of which eventually died of AIDS. When the Airman returned from Korea, he came home to the awaiting and loving arms of Mandy who had led him to believe that she was pregnant with twins. Mandy wasn't pregnant. At the time I was dating Mandy's best friend (what an idiot I was), and I overheard the conversation about how she was going to fool the fool. When the Airman returned, he and I took a ride to the bank to pick up some cash. He was lamenting over how hard it was going to be to raise his twins and I just couldn't take it anymore-I spilled the beans. He was in shock, disbelief, horrified, and to top it all off, feeling pretty stupid. I knew I'd stirred up a hornet's nest. I then told him that Mandy had actually gotten pregnant by the young man who eventually died of AIDS but had gotten an abortion in his absence.
When the young Airman returned to Mandy's location, he asked that he speak to her in private. My girlfriend then asked me what was going on and I told her that I told the Airman the truth. My girlfriend then came unglued but I handed her the necessary adhesive and told her to put herself back together and quick lest she suffer the fate that I was most certain would surely befall Mandy. She complied. Mandy and the Airman came back inside and announced that they were leaving-then Mandy looked at me as though I'd just told the Airman that she was really a man and said, "I'm getting someone to kick your ass." To which I replied, "That's just an ass-whipping I'm just gonna have to take, now isn't it? Now go handle your business."
The couple departed and we didn't hear from them again until early the next morning. It was about 8 a.m. and I was still in bed when I heard the knock at the door. My girlfriend looked out the bedroom window and could see that it was Mandy and the Airman-together, as a couple, in love-IDIOT. She let them in and I could hear whispering between Mandy and the Airman, "You said you were gonna kick his ass-what you waitin' on." I could hear Mandy mumble.
"I am, just wait." said the hesitant Airman. She had brainwashed this fool into thinking I was his enemy. Didn't matter to me what shape, size, or previous affiliation an enemy came in-an enemy was an enemy and in order to administer this ass whipping, he was going to have to bring all that he had. The young Airman walked into the bedroom and I sat up in the bed. He mumbled "What's up?" and raised his hand to hit me but I could tell his heart wasn't in it so as he came forward, I grabbed his wrist, threw him off balance and pinned him on the bed while still sitting.
"Hey what's up, I was just saying what's up?" he said.
"Yeah, well next time don't raise your hand so high." I said as I let him up.
I knew that he didn't have it in him to do what she had convinced him to do but he was torn. Poor soul he was too high strung-I'm afraid the strain was more than he could bear. I'll give $20 to first person who can tell me what movie that line is from.
When are our sista's going to stop this nonsense? I'm most certain the Airman wasn't an angel, but to intentionally mislead and betray the man's trust in such a foul manner is just unconscionable. We black men have been declared your enemy and you see fit to do whatever you can think of to us. You'll lie and tell us we've fathered your child knowing full well that the daddy was some louse you screwed on one of your loose nights (without protection). You'll invoke law enforcement into the fray knowing full well that we're their official pinata's. You'll turn our own children against us because we wouldn't stick around to endure your foulness. How did we become your sworn enemy? And how do we convince you that you have become instrumental in the demise of our people. We truly need you to realize that in this wilderness called America you've truly lost your minds. And we need you back in order to rebuild what was once great and beautiful and full of promise for the future. Perhaps none of us here have ever experienced this world that I speak of, but that doesn't mean we can't create it. But we, both men and women, have to decide that this future is worth the sacrifice. Think of it, we could be the generation that goes down in history as the people that changed the course of our people. What a noble and righteous goal to strive to achieve!
And ladies, do not despair. I will get right in the men's asses too! They are not without areas that need improving! There's no excuse that we treat our black women like ho's, bitches, or outright idiots. They know we have an affinity for other women, it's our nature. We have to stop lying about it and be honest. It's deceptive to mislead a woman into believing you're going to only be with her when you know that's not what you plan to do. Many of us know men who have a woman on the side and that woman knows that the man is either married or in a committed relationship. If a woman will get with a man under those auspices, where is the incentive to lie? We all know men who date several women at a time and those women know that he dates other women-where then is the incentive to lie? Toni Braxton had a song called, "Just Be a Man About it" and I think for too long our sista's have been asking us to stop pissing on their heads and telling them that it's yellow rain. Be a man about it. If enough of you blokes man up, perhaps sista's will accept you for who you truly are-or not. But nothing beats a failure but a try. Those old women from yester-year; the ones that were my grandmother and some of your great-grandmothers knew that a man was going to be a man. They would tell a woman, "Chile, let that man alone. He'll come home when he ready." And he always did. Those older women knew that a man's place was out in the world, not at home. His very nature is to go out and piss on as many fire-hydrants as he could and mark territory.
Lastly, I'll leave you with this and I've written it many times but I think it can't be said enough. Nature intended man to be with more than one woman and I can prove it. Take 100 men and 1 woman and put them on an isolated island-come back in 100 years and you'll have 101 corpses. Take 100 women and 1 man and put them on an isolated island-come back in 100 years and you'll have a burgeoning society. I challenge anyone to factually dispute that which was just said.
TPOKW?
Quite frankly, I think that it's probably time we start entertaining alternative social systems because it's become evident that the present one simply does not work. At some point we are going to have to scuttle our thoughts and ideas surrounding the family structure and adopt something that benefits everyone involved-not just selected members.
As it stands now, my sisters, you've been awfully selfish. Most of what you want is extremely self-centered and doesn't work in a familial setting. You've become Americanized. Now I want touch on this subject a bit. In the men circles I travel in and around, one of the key concerns with importing a bride is her becoming Americanized. There has to be something to that word. It's truly a concern of most men and I think what that translates to is becoming self-centered and pretty much worthless. An Americanized woman benefits no one but herself-and even in that endeavor she loses. I know very few men interested in a woman who won't care for his kids, won't care for the household, and will destroy the entire foundation for her own selfish desires. I'll give you a couple of true life examples but the names have been changed in order for me to speak on it but still adhere to my tacit confidentiality agreement with the vicitms.
Lita, aged 40-something, is the wife of Shawn and mother of 2, William and Lena. Lita decides to take out a home loan unbeknownst to Shawn. She then throws the money away (I won't say how because that would betray my confidentiality agreement but suffice it to say that throwing it in the trash would have been a more honorable fate for the cash). She then hides any record of the loan from Shawn until one day he gets a phone call from his mortgage company explaining to him that his house will soon be in foreclosure. I won't go into detail any further but Lita isn't to be considered a Lone Ranger. There's Barbara.
Barbara, aged 40-something, the wife of Nathan and the mother of a single child. Barbara gets a personal credit card and charges a whopping $8000 with an accumulated interest of $4000-grand total $12,000. She then decides not to pay on said card for well over a year. Nathan is home one day watching pre-season football and receives a phone call from a collector who proceeds to tell him that a lien is about to be put on his house because Barbara done lost her goddamned mind.
I don't have to tell you that the future of these two women as wives is extremely shaky. What selfish motivation would cause these women to jeopardize the solid foundation of both their families and their homes? I'm neither of them so I couldn't tell you, but needless to say, both Shawn and Nathan had to pony up cold hard cash to save their homes. Now I would like to pose a question to you sista's out there: What should Shawn and Nathan have done? Should they have:
A. Sucked it up and take it like a "man".
B. Immediately filed for divorce and let the chips fall where they may.
C. Administer corporal punishment to their wives.
D. Allow their assets to be seized and let the well run dry.
Before you write to me and tell me that Shawn and Nathan picked the wrong women, I want to remind you that they picked "you". Not you per se, but you in general. Black women, black queens, sista's. And keep in mind that if this isn't outright you, you all know women exactly like this who run in your circles. You know that they are out there doing black men wrong, but you say nothing and you continue to befriend such people, which is considered implied consent. By not speaking out against these women, you are basically saying "There's nothing wrong with what you are doing."
I once knew a woman...let's call her Mandy (because that's her f*cking name-no need to protect this lower life form). Mandy was dating a U.S. Airman who was stationed in Korea. The Airman came home on leave for 30 days and had what I'm assuming was raunchy unprotected sex with Mandy. The Airman then went back to Korea. While he was away, Mandy was screwing several young men, one of which eventually died of AIDS. When the Airman returned from Korea, he came home to the awaiting and loving arms of Mandy who had led him to believe that she was pregnant with twins. Mandy wasn't pregnant. At the time I was dating Mandy's best friend (what an idiot I was), and I overheard the conversation about how she was going to fool the fool. When the Airman returned, he and I took a ride to the bank to pick up some cash. He was lamenting over how hard it was going to be to raise his twins and I just couldn't take it anymore-I spilled the beans. He was in shock, disbelief, horrified, and to top it all off, feeling pretty stupid. I knew I'd stirred up a hornet's nest. I then told him that Mandy had actually gotten pregnant by the young man who eventually died of AIDS but had gotten an abortion in his absence.
When the young Airman returned to Mandy's location, he asked that he speak to her in private. My girlfriend then asked me what was going on and I told her that I told the Airman the truth. My girlfriend then came unglued but I handed her the necessary adhesive and told her to put herself back together and quick lest she suffer the fate that I was most certain would surely befall Mandy. She complied. Mandy and the Airman came back inside and announced that they were leaving-then Mandy looked at me as though I'd just told the Airman that she was really a man and said, "I'm getting someone to kick your ass." To which I replied, "That's just an ass-whipping I'm just gonna have to take, now isn't it? Now go handle your business."
The couple departed and we didn't hear from them again until early the next morning. It was about 8 a.m. and I was still in bed when I heard the knock at the door. My girlfriend looked out the bedroom window and could see that it was Mandy and the Airman-together, as a couple, in love-IDIOT. She let them in and I could hear whispering between Mandy and the Airman, "You said you were gonna kick his ass-what you waitin' on." I could hear Mandy mumble.
"I am, just wait." said the hesitant Airman. She had brainwashed this fool into thinking I was his enemy. Didn't matter to me what shape, size, or previous affiliation an enemy came in-an enemy was an enemy and in order to administer this ass whipping, he was going to have to bring all that he had. The young Airman walked into the bedroom and I sat up in the bed. He mumbled "What's up?" and raised his hand to hit me but I could tell his heart wasn't in it so as he came forward, I grabbed his wrist, threw him off balance and pinned him on the bed while still sitting.
"Hey what's up, I was just saying what's up?" he said.
"Yeah, well next time don't raise your hand so high." I said as I let him up.
I knew that he didn't have it in him to do what she had convinced him to do but he was torn. Poor soul he was too high strung-I'm afraid the strain was more than he could bear. I'll give $20 to first person who can tell me what movie that line is from.
When are our sista's going to stop this nonsense? I'm most certain the Airman wasn't an angel, but to intentionally mislead and betray the man's trust in such a foul manner is just unconscionable. We black men have been declared your enemy and you see fit to do whatever you can think of to us. You'll lie and tell us we've fathered your child knowing full well that the daddy was some louse you screwed on one of your loose nights (without protection). You'll invoke law enforcement into the fray knowing full well that we're their official pinata's. You'll turn our own children against us because we wouldn't stick around to endure your foulness. How did we become your sworn enemy? And how do we convince you that you have become instrumental in the demise of our people. We truly need you to realize that in this wilderness called America you've truly lost your minds. And we need you back in order to rebuild what was once great and beautiful and full of promise for the future. Perhaps none of us here have ever experienced this world that I speak of, but that doesn't mean we can't create it. But we, both men and women, have to decide that this future is worth the sacrifice. Think of it, we could be the generation that goes down in history as the people that changed the course of our people. What a noble and righteous goal to strive to achieve!
And ladies, do not despair. I will get right in the men's asses too! They are not without areas that need improving! There's no excuse that we treat our black women like ho's, bitches, or outright idiots. They know we have an affinity for other women, it's our nature. We have to stop lying about it and be honest. It's deceptive to mislead a woman into believing you're going to only be with her when you know that's not what you plan to do. Many of us know men who have a woman on the side and that woman knows that the man is either married or in a committed relationship. If a woman will get with a man under those auspices, where is the incentive to lie? We all know men who date several women at a time and those women know that he dates other women-where then is the incentive to lie? Toni Braxton had a song called, "Just Be a Man About it" and I think for too long our sista's have been asking us to stop pissing on their heads and telling them that it's yellow rain. Be a man about it. If enough of you blokes man up, perhaps sista's will accept you for who you truly are-or not. But nothing beats a failure but a try. Those old women from yester-year; the ones that were my grandmother and some of your great-grandmothers knew that a man was going to be a man. They would tell a woman, "Chile, let that man alone. He'll come home when he ready." And he always did. Those older women knew that a man's place was out in the world, not at home. His very nature is to go out and piss on as many fire-hydrants as he could and mark territory.
Lastly, I'll leave you with this and I've written it many times but I think it can't be said enough. Nature intended man to be with more than one woman and I can prove it. Take 100 men and 1 woman and put them on an isolated island-come back in 100 years and you'll have 101 corpses. Take 100 women and 1 man and put them on an isolated island-come back in 100 years and you'll have a burgeoning society. I challenge anyone to factually dispute that which was just said.
TPOKW?
Friday, August 24, 2007
Tagged!! (Damnit)
My dear friend Peculiar Virtue has dragged me kicking and screaming into this 8 things you should know about me but I shouldn't have to tell you game and being a sport, I'm going to participate. But I'm letting the jury know that I should be considered a hostile witness.
Thing number....
1. I'm a talented song writer and when I write a song I like, I listen to it over and over again until I tire of it (listening to one now)
2. I love Q-tips! I liken the experience to sex! Ok, maybe not that good but pretty damn close
3. I once had sex with a Chinese woman that spoke absolutely no english and I speak no Chinese (go figure)
4. Most of my friends are from other countries-Americans annoy me
5. Most people who meet me for the first time think I'm 20 years younger than I am (could it be a behavioral association?)
6. I have a haunting fear of needles and snakes-I'd prefer to cut myself and give blood than have you stick me with a needle
7. I'm in touch with my feminine side but I'm as heterosexual as a male could be
8. I'm truly a mama's boy and won't ever be much else
There-I hope you're satisfied Peculiar Virtue. You Virgin Islanders always get your way ;-)
I'm going to hit One Whirl, Syscovison, Rlawrence, BBGG13, Jade123 ('cause she's hot and a great actress), RIPrince ('cause he's my son and I love him like the air I breathe), and I'll think of some other unfortunate souls to annoy.
Ciao Bella!
TPOKW
Thing number....
1. I'm a talented song writer and when I write a song I like, I listen to it over and over again until I tire of it (listening to one now)
2. I love Q-tips! I liken the experience to sex! Ok, maybe not that good but pretty damn close
3. I once had sex with a Chinese woman that spoke absolutely no english and I speak no Chinese (go figure)
4. Most of my friends are from other countries-Americans annoy me
5. Most people who meet me for the first time think I'm 20 years younger than I am (could it be a behavioral association?)
6. I have a haunting fear of needles and snakes-I'd prefer to cut myself and give blood than have you stick me with a needle
7. I'm in touch with my feminine side but I'm as heterosexual as a male could be
8. I'm truly a mama's boy and won't ever be much else
There-I hope you're satisfied Peculiar Virtue. You Virgin Islanders always get your way ;-)
I'm going to hit One Whirl, Syscovison, Rlawrence, BBGG13, Jade123 ('cause she's hot and a great actress), RIPrince ('cause he's my son and I love him like the air I breathe), and I'll think of some other unfortunate souls to annoy.
Ciao Bella!
TPOKW
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Michael Vicktim
I cannot stand the hypocrisy that exists amongst the American public. I know that dog fighting is cruel and humans should not exploit animals, but the outcry that has resulted in M.V.'s indictment is a bit ridiculous. People are sending Vick's jersey to different animal rights societies in protest.
But where's the public outcry for all the animals used in product testing? All the apes that were infected with terminal diseases in medical testing-who's jerseys are they sending in to protest the cruel and unusual punishment to those animals? This so pathetic. I'm not defending him, I'm just commenting on how this Vick thing is a blip on the screen and I don't know why Animal Rights societies don't speak the truth about this case-tell the public how major corporations with their product testings and medical research companies with their barbaric experimentation are far more guilty than Vick could ever be.
As far as the case goes, no one likes a snitch and Vick had a posse of them. These guys betrayed him to save their own skins. Not one supported him-they all turned. What a sad and disappointing testament to unity and kinmanship. I have to honestly say that in no way could I knowingly be involved in illegal activity and roll over on my cohorts. I put emphasis on knowingly because when you involve yourself in criminal activity, you know that their is a possibility of doing time should you get caught. Everyone knows that. Armed with that knowledge, how could you sell out your comrades to save your own hide? This is one of the main factors that keeps me away from criminal activity-I DON'T CARE TO DO THE TIME! These goons accepted the reward, but wanted no part of the risk. I have more contempt for them than I have for M.V. If M.V. was a crime boss, those guys would be sleepin' with the fishes, and rightfully so. How can you not be a man and own up to your own involvement? Let this be a lesson to you young men out there, there's no honor amongst thieves. The boys in your hood will most likely sell you out if their necks are on the chopping block.
M.V.'s not really a victim in my opinion. When you get a $190,000,000 contract, what in God's name are you doing dog fighting? Surely, this couldn't have been Vick's idea solely. And if it was, what part of $190,000,000 didn't you understand? At 6% annual interest you're earning $11,400,000 a year (before capital gains taxes which would reduce that amount by about 40%). You can't live off $11.5 million (gross) a year. Let me break that down for you:
Per second- $.33
Per minute- $20.04
Per hour- $1202.53
Per day- $28,860.75
Per week- $202,025.32
Per month- $865,822.50
He earns in an hour, what it takes some people to make in 30 days. Per day he earns what most people make in a year. Explain for me the need to fight dogs? I know the average football career is 3 years (if you're lucky), but dog fighting, which he had to have known would not sit well with dog-loving white folks, could only shorten that football career. Way to maximize, Vick.
TPOKW?
But where's the public outcry for all the animals used in product testing? All the apes that were infected with terminal diseases in medical testing-who's jerseys are they sending in to protest the cruel and unusual punishment to those animals? This so pathetic. I'm not defending him, I'm just commenting on how this Vick thing is a blip on the screen and I don't know why Animal Rights societies don't speak the truth about this case-tell the public how major corporations with their product testings and medical research companies with their barbaric experimentation are far more guilty than Vick could ever be.
As far as the case goes, no one likes a snitch and Vick had a posse of them. These guys betrayed him to save their own skins. Not one supported him-they all turned. What a sad and disappointing testament to unity and kinmanship. I have to honestly say that in no way could I knowingly be involved in illegal activity and roll over on my cohorts. I put emphasis on knowingly because when you involve yourself in criminal activity, you know that their is a possibility of doing time should you get caught. Everyone knows that. Armed with that knowledge, how could you sell out your comrades to save your own hide? This is one of the main factors that keeps me away from criminal activity-I DON'T CARE TO DO THE TIME! These goons accepted the reward, but wanted no part of the risk. I have more contempt for them than I have for M.V. If M.V. was a crime boss, those guys would be sleepin' with the fishes, and rightfully so. How can you not be a man and own up to your own involvement? Let this be a lesson to you young men out there, there's no honor amongst thieves. The boys in your hood will most likely sell you out if their necks are on the chopping block.
M.V.'s not really a victim in my opinion. When you get a $190,000,000 contract, what in God's name are you doing dog fighting? Surely, this couldn't have been Vick's idea solely. And if it was, what part of $190,000,000 didn't you understand? At 6% annual interest you're earning $11,400,000 a year (before capital gains taxes which would reduce that amount by about 40%). You can't live off $11.5 million (gross) a year. Let me break that down for you:
Per second- $.33
Per minute- $20.04
Per hour- $1202.53
Per day- $28,860.75
Per week- $202,025.32
Per month- $865,822.50
He earns in an hour, what it takes some people to make in 30 days. Per day he earns what most people make in a year. Explain for me the need to fight dogs? I know the average football career is 3 years (if you're lucky), but dog fighting, which he had to have known would not sit well with dog-loving white folks, could only shorten that football career. Way to maximize, Vick.
TPOKW?
Monday, August 20, 2007
Unguarded Flank
I think I've finally figured America out. I really hadn't given this aspect of the country much thought, but I've been able to see beyond the veneer lately. First of all, this place was founded by some not so nice guys. Or at least guys who could say all that all men are created equal nonsense but justify slavery. If that doesn't give you insight on either a mental illness or a duplicitous mindset that can't be trusted, I don't know what does.
America is a country that has laws against people who are here to be preyed upon. The laws are to keep us commoners from doing what is necessary to those who are exploiting us (i.e. whip their naturally lazy asses). That's why when a crime is committed against you-for instance your wife steals $5449 from you, or your ex-girlfriend steals $15,000 of your video editing equipment, the law has nothing for you. In neither of these instances was anyone arrested nor charged with anything. Aren't these crimes? If I stole $100 from 7-11, wouldn't they stick me under Bubba who's under the jail? If I steal a candy bar from Stater Bros. I'm charged with a misdemeanor and sentenced to something. Yet an individual can experience a loss that is 10,000 more than the cost of a candy bar and all they will hear from Law Enforcement is, "Well sir, that's a civil matter. Ain't shit civil about that!! Arrest somebody, damnit!
I going to have to read more up on that citizen's arrest thing. From what I understand, you can make a citizen's arrest and have somebody's narrow (or wide in the case of most of my dates) ass arrested on the spot. You all better be careful. I'm gonna citizen arrest just about everybody who looks at me sideways! "Officer, arrest that man!" I can see it now. They'll have to build jails to accommodate the folks I'm throwing in the slammer **News Flash!!** GREAT BLACK CITIZEN MAKES 100TH ARREST! HE'S ON A ROLL!!
Ok, I'm getting ahead of myself here. I guess the point I'm trying to make is I've never gotten much help from the police when a crime was committed against me, but ohhhhh....don't let me look sideways at someone else... it's the matching bracelet hour. This place is so crazy, I don't think we even see how nutty we've become. It's because we use us to measure us. Great corporations benchmark against other great corporations-they don't compare themselves to themselves-that's stupid. You'll always look good! We need to benchmark our social programs, economic programs, our political systems and systems of government with other progressive industrial nations. Not find something about them we don't like and say, "Oh those British pay almost 50% of their income in taxes." Not realizing a lot of the money goes into social programs to keep people healthy. Opposed to what we do here..dumping our indigent populace on skid row.
I guess I've ranted enough-time to head to the gym and punish myself.
TPOKW?
America is a country that has laws against people who are here to be preyed upon. The laws are to keep us commoners from doing what is necessary to those who are exploiting us (i.e. whip their naturally lazy asses). That's why when a crime is committed against you-for instance your wife steals $5449 from you, or your ex-girlfriend steals $15,000 of your video editing equipment, the law has nothing for you. In neither of these instances was anyone arrested nor charged with anything. Aren't these crimes? If I stole $100 from 7-11, wouldn't they stick me under Bubba who's under the jail? If I steal a candy bar from Stater Bros. I'm charged with a misdemeanor and sentenced to something. Yet an individual can experience a loss that is 10,000 more than the cost of a candy bar and all they will hear from Law Enforcement is, "Well sir, that's a civil matter. Ain't shit civil about that!! Arrest somebody, damnit!
I going to have to read more up on that citizen's arrest thing. From what I understand, you can make a citizen's arrest and have somebody's narrow (or wide in the case of most of my dates) ass arrested on the spot. You all better be careful. I'm gonna citizen arrest just about everybody who looks at me sideways! "Officer, arrest that man!" I can see it now. They'll have to build jails to accommodate the folks I'm throwing in the slammer **News Flash!!** GREAT BLACK CITIZEN MAKES 100TH ARREST! HE'S ON A ROLL!!
Ok, I'm getting ahead of myself here. I guess the point I'm trying to make is I've never gotten much help from the police when a crime was committed against me, but ohhhhh....don't let me look sideways at someone else... it's the matching bracelet hour. This place is so crazy, I don't think we even see how nutty we've become. It's because we use us to measure us. Great corporations benchmark against other great corporations-they don't compare themselves to themselves-that's stupid. You'll always look good! We need to benchmark our social programs, economic programs, our political systems and systems of government with other progressive industrial nations. Not find something about them we don't like and say, "Oh those British pay almost 50% of their income in taxes." Not realizing a lot of the money goes into social programs to keep people healthy. Opposed to what we do here..dumping our indigent populace on skid row.
I guess I've ranted enough-time to head to the gym and punish myself.
TPOKW?
Quiet World
As many of you know, my wife and I separated the beginning of this month. I had planned on it being a smooth transition with all of the "i's" dotted and the "t's" crossed, but she had something else in mind. Something that involved law enforcement, false statements, and outright thievery. I don't understand people these days, but suffice it to say that no matter what you do with an individual (and I put emphasis on individual because we've allowed ourselves to be reduced to crabs in a bucket), when there is a parting of ways, you have to protect yourself like never before because people will outright defile you in the name of vengance. I can't speak candidly on the subject, but once all is done, I will give details.
The one shining moment in all of this is I've finally gotten settled into my new place and it is an old familiar Quiet World. I remember this place and can't recall why I would have ever disturbed its inherent peace. I don't think I'll ever allow myself to throw it away again. Sure there's no one around to talk to, but recalling the caliber of conversation I recently left, that should be a blessing. I know I chat with the TV a lot more now, but that's to be expected-it's the only thing in the house that talks.
Another thing I like is that it's a lot easier to keep the place spotless. I'm almost anal about it since living with my wife and her two kids. They weren't the most versed in domestic duties. I remember taking plenty of those deep breaths to calm the old nerves. And when I tried to talk to her about the proper way to clean or maintain something, you'd think I'd just ask her to give me bone marrow. There are plenty of positives that are now taking the place of what should be a mourning period. Perhaps I was in mourning the entire 5.9 years. There is a certain sadness that creeps in from time to time, then I think about the $10,449 she cost me in less than a week and all of a sudden, that sadness feels like weakness and I immediately get rid of it. Compassion should only be reserved for the innocent; hang the rest.
TPOKW
The one shining moment in all of this is I've finally gotten settled into my new place and it is an old familiar Quiet World. I remember this place and can't recall why I would have ever disturbed its inherent peace. I don't think I'll ever allow myself to throw it away again. Sure there's no one around to talk to, but recalling the caliber of conversation I recently left, that should be a blessing. I know I chat with the TV a lot more now, but that's to be expected-it's the only thing in the house that talks.
Another thing I like is that it's a lot easier to keep the place spotless. I'm almost anal about it since living with my wife and her two kids. They weren't the most versed in domestic duties. I remember taking plenty of those deep breaths to calm the old nerves. And when I tried to talk to her about the proper way to clean or maintain something, you'd think I'd just ask her to give me bone marrow. There are plenty of positives that are now taking the place of what should be a mourning period. Perhaps I was in mourning the entire 5.9 years. There is a certain sadness that creeps in from time to time, then I think about the $10,449 she cost me in less than a week and all of a sudden, that sadness feels like weakness and I immediately get rid of it. Compassion should only be reserved for the innocent; hang the rest.
TPOKW
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
____'s the New ____ (Fill in the Blanks)
Who coined this phrase? I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, 40's the new 30, white's the new black, etc.. A psych major would immediately recognize the mental illness behind this way of thinking-it's called denial. First of all, 40's always just going to be 40. It can't be anything else. Secondly, why is 30 better than 40? This is just a way to never really accept who and where you are in life. Women are notoriously susceptible to this game. I know women who've been 28 for the past 10-15 years. And I'm not talking about women who look their age (whatever that means), I'm talking about women who look damn good regardless of if they were 20, 30, 40, or 50. Quite frankly they look so good, the older their actual age, the better one could say they looked.
Why have we allowed whoever to tell us that there is something wrong with just being who we are? If you're 40, saying you're 28 doesn't make you 28, it just makes you confused. It also forces you to neglect the natural gifts that come along with being mature. A 40 year old woman who has matured well and refused the forever young nonsense has absolutely no reason to fear a less-mature, still wet-behind-the-ears 28 year old female. I have a secret I'd like to share with you so lean your ear closer to your monitor: YOUNG WOMEN LACK SO MUCH CONFIDENCE, THEY SECRETLY WISH THEY WERE YOU!! So in essence, most of you go through life never really accepting who you are. When you're young you wish you were older and when you're older you long for the days when you were younger. STOP LETTING THEM DO THIS SHIT TO YOU!!
Real men prefer older women (to a certain extent). I don't know what age it was that I realized I had absolutely nothing in common with a woman in her 20's but once I became aware of the fact, I don't care how perky their tits were, I had difficulty with younger women. In fact, I like the natural sag and sway of a mature breast-it says something to me that the new-to-puberty perky breast hasn't figured out how to say yet. Sadly, I've discovered that my contemporaries are so obsessed with being forever 21, they neglect the natural gifts that come along with being 40, 50, or even 60 in some cases. I once met a 58 year old woman who looked like she was about 35. Once I discovered her age, I was immediately attracted to her and she was 15 years my senior! She had this quiet sexuality that wasn't overtly on display. In fact, it wasn't on display at all-she was dressed casually, but conservatively. She had this arousing confidence that just permeated the air.
This society is a disposable one and we throw away our elderly. We render them unnecessary and most mope around for years, awaiting that fateful visit from the reaper, instead of ignoring conventional wisdom and just enjoying life. Well let me be the first to say, I WILL NOT GO QUIETLY INTO THE NIGHT.
I believe there is an explanation for this phenomenon of denial, but I won't go into it at this time. There are those who say I'm a conspiracy theorist and I don't want to bring those types out from the baseboards during daylight. They aren't fun people-they have thick, impenetrable skulls and ears that are strictly for cosmetic purposes. Suffice it to say if you're constantly running away from who you really are, then who are you really? (I'll let you marinate on that one for a second)-insert final Jeopardy song here. I hope that hit home.
TPOKW
Why have we allowed whoever to tell us that there is something wrong with just being who we are? If you're 40, saying you're 28 doesn't make you 28, it just makes you confused. It also forces you to neglect the natural gifts that come along with being mature. A 40 year old woman who has matured well and refused the forever young nonsense has absolutely no reason to fear a less-mature, still wet-behind-the-ears 28 year old female. I have a secret I'd like to share with you so lean your ear closer to your monitor: YOUNG WOMEN LACK SO MUCH CONFIDENCE, THEY SECRETLY WISH THEY WERE YOU!! So in essence, most of you go through life never really accepting who you are. When you're young you wish you were older and when you're older you long for the days when you were younger. STOP LETTING THEM DO THIS SHIT TO YOU!!
Real men prefer older women (to a certain extent). I don't know what age it was that I realized I had absolutely nothing in common with a woman in her 20's but once I became aware of the fact, I don't care how perky their tits were, I had difficulty with younger women. In fact, I like the natural sag and sway of a mature breast-it says something to me that the new-to-puberty perky breast hasn't figured out how to say yet. Sadly, I've discovered that my contemporaries are so obsessed with being forever 21, they neglect the natural gifts that come along with being 40, 50, or even 60 in some cases. I once met a 58 year old woman who looked like she was about 35. Once I discovered her age, I was immediately attracted to her and she was 15 years my senior! She had this quiet sexuality that wasn't overtly on display. In fact, it wasn't on display at all-she was dressed casually, but conservatively. She had this arousing confidence that just permeated the air.
This society is a disposable one and we throw away our elderly. We render them unnecessary and most mope around for years, awaiting that fateful visit from the reaper, instead of ignoring conventional wisdom and just enjoying life. Well let me be the first to say, I WILL NOT GO QUIETLY INTO THE NIGHT.
I believe there is an explanation for this phenomenon of denial, but I won't go into it at this time. There are those who say I'm a conspiracy theorist and I don't want to bring those types out from the baseboards during daylight. They aren't fun people-they have thick, impenetrable skulls and ears that are strictly for cosmetic purposes. Suffice it to say if you're constantly running away from who you really are, then who are you really? (I'll let you marinate on that one for a second)-insert final Jeopardy song here. I hope that hit home.
TPOKW
Monday, August 13, 2007
Michael Vick and His Dog Trick
I'm sure by now you've heard all about the Michael Vick dog fighting scandal. I don't have much time to write about what I really think but I have one question: If Michael Vick gets suspended the entire NFL season for his involvement in dog fighting, how long are we going to suspend President Bush for his involvement in man fighting?
'Nuff said.
TPOKN?
'Nuff said.
TPOKN?
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Jesus and the Electric Chair
If Jesus had died via electric chair, would Christians have adopted it as the symbol of their church?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Is Polygamy the Answer to Europe's Declining Birthrate?
Last night a close friend of mine and I were out on my private balcony (mine until I move on the 1st of August-I'll miss it) and we were talking about the declining birthrate that is plaguing Europe. I know this might be news to most of you, but scientist, as early as the 80's predicted that by the year 2000 Europe would begin to experience what's called a Birth/Dearth (a birth for every death). The United Nations click here to read the report held a conference in the year 2000 detailing about 7 countries (including the U.S. and Canada) that were on the list and how immigration would have to be beefed up in order to meet the demanding needs of manpower to keep the countries running.
The European birthrate has been declining for decades and, according to scientists, they've dipped dangerously close to unreplenishing levels (in other words no matter what they do, they won't be able to stem the declining numbers and they'll continue to plummet until the inevitable occurs). While discussing this, it occurred to me that monogamy might be a contributing factor to this decline. I'm about to go out on a tangent here but if you stay with me, my logic will eventuallly make sense. When a man ejaculates, he releases millions of sperm. It was once believed that those sperm were competing for the opportunity to fertilize the one female egg, but scientist have determined that isn't the actual role of all sperm. Some are there to fight bacteria that may exist in the womb; others have duties that may have nothing to do with fertilizing the egg but are essential to the reproduction process. What does all of this have to do with polygamy? Patience my patients.
Just like sperm, not every male (and female for that matter) is designed to reproduce. If nature had her way, only the strongest would procreate meaning the weakest genes would be eliminated and what you'd have left are the best that humans can produce. Nowadays even the mentally challenged are allowed to reproduce. I know this sounds really close to my advocating a Eugenics program and in a way, I guess that I am-but it's nature's version of Eugenics, (and no one can do it better than she can).
Now to polygamy (and I thank you for your patience). The beauty of polygamy is only the alpha males are going to be able to reproduce. That could very well mean the physically superior, or it could mean a combination of both the physcally and mentally superior; nature has a weird way of sorting this thing out. We all know that it requires a certain level of intelligence to survive in the wild. If you're the type of animal that doesn't pay attention to your surroundings, you've just become some other animal's dinner. Away you go, along with your failure-to-pay-attention dumb gene. When born in the wild, if you don't get on your feet and sprint like your life depended on it (because in the wild it does) you're a fresh snack for some predator-and your weak gene has relegated you to the lower end of the food chain.
I know I haven't really packaged this as neatly as I could have, but I'm definetly no scholar-I'm just an (above) average joe with a blog. What I'm trying to say is monogamy means practically everyone gets a mate and weak genes are propagated at an alarming rate. Not to mention the fact that we create laws which protect idiots from there own idiocy. If you can't figure out how to cross the street without getting hit, that shouldn't be the fault of the guy who's on his way home from work, doing the speed limit and you happen to run out in front of him. Not only will he be penalized in some fashion, he may now be hit with civil suit. Your dumb gene needed to be eliminated. But I digress. Polygamy means the strongest will reproduce. And the alpha male will attract the best of the best to procreate with.
Those of you who know me know that I have a lazy right eye. An official Eugenics program would have mandated I be sterilized or worse yet, put to death. So I think you know I wouldn't advocate an institution that would in some way harm me. This is why I am against Eugenics when man has a say. I am, however, an advocate of nature's Eugenics program. This program very well means that I might have been relegated to the non-reproductive bunch-but then again nature blessed me with many talents so I doubt it very seriously.
If they are die-hards against polygamy then I have another suggestion-have all of the fertile white women inter-breed with those who have stronger genes. What's that I smell? Fire? Is someone burning an effigy of me? You guys-surely you jest! Bu seriously, how different is that from corporate mergers and acquisitions?
Anyway, I know I'm going to get flame-torched for this post, but I'm just trying to help Europe with her problem, that's all.
TPOKW?
The European birthrate has been declining for decades and, according to scientists, they've dipped dangerously close to unreplenishing levels (in other words no matter what they do, they won't be able to stem the declining numbers and they'll continue to plummet until the inevitable occurs). While discussing this, it occurred to me that monogamy might be a contributing factor to this decline. I'm about to go out on a tangent here but if you stay with me, my logic will eventuallly make sense. When a man ejaculates, he releases millions of sperm. It was once believed that those sperm were competing for the opportunity to fertilize the one female egg, but scientist have determined that isn't the actual role of all sperm. Some are there to fight bacteria that may exist in the womb; others have duties that may have nothing to do with fertilizing the egg but are essential to the reproduction process. What does all of this have to do with polygamy? Patience my patients.
Just like sperm, not every male (and female for that matter) is designed to reproduce. If nature had her way, only the strongest would procreate meaning the weakest genes would be eliminated and what you'd have left are the best that humans can produce. Nowadays even the mentally challenged are allowed to reproduce. I know this sounds really close to my advocating a Eugenics program and in a way, I guess that I am-but it's nature's version of Eugenics, (and no one can do it better than she can).
Now to polygamy (and I thank you for your patience). The beauty of polygamy is only the alpha males are going to be able to reproduce. That could very well mean the physically superior, or it could mean a combination of both the physcally and mentally superior; nature has a weird way of sorting this thing out. We all know that it requires a certain level of intelligence to survive in the wild. If you're the type of animal that doesn't pay attention to your surroundings, you've just become some other animal's dinner. Away you go, along with your failure-to-pay-attention dumb gene. When born in the wild, if you don't get on your feet and sprint like your life depended on it (because in the wild it does) you're a fresh snack for some predator-and your weak gene has relegated you to the lower end of the food chain.
I know I haven't really packaged this as neatly as I could have, but I'm definetly no scholar-I'm just an (above) average joe with a blog. What I'm trying to say is monogamy means practically everyone gets a mate and weak genes are propagated at an alarming rate. Not to mention the fact that we create laws which protect idiots from there own idiocy. If you can't figure out how to cross the street without getting hit, that shouldn't be the fault of the guy who's on his way home from work, doing the speed limit and you happen to run out in front of him. Not only will he be penalized in some fashion, he may now be hit with civil suit. Your dumb gene needed to be eliminated. But I digress. Polygamy means the strongest will reproduce. And the alpha male will attract the best of the best to procreate with.
Those of you who know me know that I have a lazy right eye. An official Eugenics program would have mandated I be sterilized or worse yet, put to death. So I think you know I wouldn't advocate an institution that would in some way harm me. This is why I am against Eugenics when man has a say. I am, however, an advocate of nature's Eugenics program. This program very well means that I might have been relegated to the non-reproductive bunch-but then again nature blessed me with many talents so I doubt it very seriously.
If they are die-hards against polygamy then I have another suggestion-have all of the fertile white women inter-breed with those who have stronger genes. What's that I smell? Fire? Is someone burning an effigy of me? You guys-surely you jest! Bu seriously, how different is that from corporate mergers and acquisitions?
Anyway, I know I'm going to get flame-torched for this post, but I'm just trying to help Europe with her problem, that's all.
TPOKW?
Monday, July 23, 2007
Jamie Cullum!!!!
Alright, I know I'm a little too old to be going gaga over a celebrity, but I'm a HUGE Jamie Cullum fan. If you're not familiar with him, he's a diminutive Brit that has successfully taken almost all genre's of music and made them his own. Yes, the pale-skin Brit has even done a hip-hop cover...brilliantly. Google him and step into his world. I guarantee it won't be easy to walk away. Last Friday I saw him live for the first time and I'll be damned if he wasn't GREAT! He was at the Hollywood Bowl and I've been awaiting this performance since February of this year.
I was at work one day last year and a new coworker attempting to score points with the boss (me) passed me his DVD. He said that he was a jazz artist. Ok, I have to admit that I was a tad bit skeptical. Not to say that white guys can't do jazz-hell, these days, white guys can even jump. But after what Elvis did to Rock and Roll and blacks, I have a sore spot when it comes to white crossover artist (Eminem excluded).
Admittedly, I babysat the DVD for about 4 weeks. One Saturday I had some free time so I figured I'd give a cursory glance just to say that I looked at it, and return it on Monday with one of those courtesy responses: Yeah I watched it...He's good!. But Jamie Cullum had prepared all his life for musically racist skeptics like me. I grabbed my laptop, plugged in my portable surround sound speaker system, put the laptop on my portable stand, grabbed a seat, sparked a bowl and pressed play. What happened next was somewhat of a mystery. Jamie took the stage and began singing acapella. Jazz singing simply doesn't sound good acapella and my suspicions about this guy were confirmed...or so I thought. Then he sat down at the piano and began ripping the damn keys up! I sat back in my comfy chair and stared at the screen as though Beyonce had just proposed. After a brief musical interlude, he began singing again and it all came together.
After the track was over, I sat nodding my head saying "Ok, ok..what you got next?" Well next, he did a cover of Pharrell William's Frontin', a hip-hop track that, at first I didn't recognize all jazzed up, but once I caught on, man, I'd been bitten. This guy did a beautiful rendition of the song.
As the DVD progressed it got better and better. With the surround sound and the haze, it was like I was right there at Blenheim Palace in England with him. He did one song titled, "Why Do Today What You Can Dooooo Tomorrow, and as a musician, I can pretty much predict where a songs going. This song took me on a journey that I will never forget! This song is a must-hear for anyone who loves music! This artist is just phenomenal. He plays several instruments and is just amazing to watch.
Halfway through I got the munchies and decided to pause the DVD to satiate my appetite and call my coworker to let him know that he'd just turned me into the president of the Jamie Cullum fan club. I don't want to bore you with all the details, but suffice it to say that I've watched that DVD probably 1000 times already. I've purchased 6 copies to date (1 for myself, 4 for relatives and friends, and the last copy I purchased Friday night so that I could have it autographed by the wunderkind).
My youngest daughter, Alexis, is a huge fan at 6 so Friday night she accompanied me to the concert. Afterwards, we jumped in the autograph line and waited patiently to shake Jamie's hand and get his autograph. When it was our turn, I told him that Lexi knew all the words to All at Sea and she could sing a few bars if he wanted but Lexi sold me out. She ducked behind my legs and buried her face in my pants. Jamie got a kick out of that.
My birthday is this coming Friday and that concert was my gift to myself and I enjoyed every minute of the experience. I started to go back on Saturday but I figured I would wait until he returned and performed without the LA Philharmonic. Even though the performance was brilliant, I want to see him perform with Sebastian de Krom (drums) and Geoff Gascone (bass).
Do yourself a favor (and Jamie), check out this guy. I guarantee you won't be disappointed. Get comfortable, pour yourself a glass of wine (or whatever mind-altering substance you prefer), get your significant other to join you, pop in the Live at Blenheim Palace DVD and enjoy the ride!
Prince
I was at work one day last year and a new coworker attempting to score points with the boss (me) passed me his DVD. He said that he was a jazz artist. Ok, I have to admit that I was a tad bit skeptical. Not to say that white guys can't do jazz-hell, these days, white guys can even jump. But after what Elvis did to Rock and Roll and blacks, I have a sore spot when it comes to white crossover artist (Eminem excluded).
Admittedly, I babysat the DVD for about 4 weeks. One Saturday I had some free time so I figured I'd give a cursory glance just to say that I looked at it, and return it on Monday with one of those courtesy responses: Yeah I watched it...He's good!. But Jamie Cullum had prepared all his life for musically racist skeptics like me. I grabbed my laptop, plugged in my portable surround sound speaker system, put the laptop on my portable stand, grabbed a seat, sparked a bowl and pressed play. What happened next was somewhat of a mystery. Jamie took the stage and began singing acapella. Jazz singing simply doesn't sound good acapella and my suspicions about this guy were confirmed...or so I thought. Then he sat down at the piano and began ripping the damn keys up! I sat back in my comfy chair and stared at the screen as though Beyonce had just proposed. After a brief musical interlude, he began singing again and it all came together.
After the track was over, I sat nodding my head saying "Ok, ok..what you got next?" Well next, he did a cover of Pharrell William's Frontin', a hip-hop track that, at first I didn't recognize all jazzed up, but once I caught on, man, I'd been bitten. This guy did a beautiful rendition of the song.
As the DVD progressed it got better and better. With the surround sound and the haze, it was like I was right there at Blenheim Palace in England with him. He did one song titled, "Why Do Today What You Can Dooooo Tomorrow, and as a musician, I can pretty much predict where a songs going. This song took me on a journey that I will never forget! This song is a must-hear for anyone who loves music! This artist is just phenomenal. He plays several instruments and is just amazing to watch.
Halfway through I got the munchies and decided to pause the DVD to satiate my appetite and call my coworker to let him know that he'd just turned me into the president of the Jamie Cullum fan club. I don't want to bore you with all the details, but suffice it to say that I've watched that DVD probably 1000 times already. I've purchased 6 copies to date (1 for myself, 4 for relatives and friends, and the last copy I purchased Friday night so that I could have it autographed by the wunderkind).
My youngest daughter, Alexis, is a huge fan at 6 so Friday night she accompanied me to the concert. Afterwards, we jumped in the autograph line and waited patiently to shake Jamie's hand and get his autograph. When it was our turn, I told him that Lexi knew all the words to All at Sea and she could sing a few bars if he wanted but Lexi sold me out. She ducked behind my legs and buried her face in my pants. Jamie got a kick out of that.
My birthday is this coming Friday and that concert was my gift to myself and I enjoyed every minute of the experience. I started to go back on Saturday but I figured I would wait until he returned and performed without the LA Philharmonic. Even though the performance was brilliant, I want to see him perform with Sebastian de Krom (drums) and Geoff Gascone (bass).
Do yourself a favor (and Jamie), check out this guy. I guarantee you won't be disappointed. Get comfortable, pour yourself a glass of wine (or whatever mind-altering substance you prefer), get your significant other to join you, pop in the Live at Blenheim Palace DVD and enjoy the ride!
Prince
A Cockroach Killed My Coffee Cup
I work in a warehouse with office space upstairs and if you know anything about warehouses, they harbor critters. Regardless of what you do, they'll make your space a refuge. Fortunately, they don't care to climb stairs so I've never seen any in my office. This morning I came in to work and began my ritual of checking and respoonding to email, processing my orders, and finally going downstairs to prepare my standard breakfast of oatmeal, fresh fruit, and coffee. Normally, I leave my coffee cup upstairs, but Friday I was in such a rush, I left it in the break room with about a quarter cup of coffee in it (I know, gross but like I said, I was in a rush).
Well this morning I went downstairs, and picked up my coffee cup, looked inside and submerged in my cup was a 1.5 inch long cockroach (no I didn't measure him-it's an estimate). Needless to say, I dry-heaved for about 10 seconds. After involuntarily attempting to empty the contents of my stomach, I went into the restroom and gave the java-loving critter a ceremonious burial at-sea (i.e. I flushed his nasty ass down the toilet). To my surprise, he was still alive! He began a frantic version of the cockroach breast stroke, but to no avail-the powerful suction of gravity whisked him away. I stood and watched him (or her-I have no way of identifying the sex of insects. Furthermore, you all should be deeply concerned about someone who does), as he/she struggled to keep from being sucked into the abyss.
Afterwards, I put the cup in the sink (notice how it's no longer my cup?), and ran hot water in it for about 30 seconds and then I came to the realization that, no matter how I much I wash it, every time I put the cup up to my lips for a sip, I'm going to see that partially submerged cockroach with it's spindly legs. I decided to throw it in the trash.
Today, I learned two lessons:
Lesson#1-From now on, my coffee cup will be washed and stored upstairs, and
Lesson#2-Cockroaches love coffee. So if you work in a warehouse connected to other warehouses, the great likelihood is that a cockroach has taken a bath in your partially filled coffee cup. Ok, I know that wasn't fair, but I don't want to be the only one.
P.S. The coffee was medium roast with hazelnut creamer just in case any of you were wondering.
Prince
Well this morning I went downstairs, and picked up my coffee cup, looked inside and submerged in my cup was a 1.5 inch long cockroach (no I didn't measure him-it's an estimate). Needless to say, I dry-heaved for about 10 seconds. After involuntarily attempting to empty the contents of my stomach, I went into the restroom and gave the java-loving critter a ceremonious burial at-sea (i.e. I flushed his nasty ass down the toilet). To my surprise, he was still alive! He began a frantic version of the cockroach breast stroke, but to no avail-the powerful suction of gravity whisked him away. I stood and watched him (or her-I have no way of identifying the sex of insects. Furthermore, you all should be deeply concerned about someone who does), as he/she struggled to keep from being sucked into the abyss.
Afterwards, I put the cup in the sink (notice how it's no longer my cup?), and ran hot water in it for about 30 seconds and then I came to the realization that, no matter how I much I wash it, every time I put the cup up to my lips for a sip, I'm going to see that partially submerged cockroach with it's spindly legs. I decided to throw it in the trash.
Today, I learned two lessons:
Lesson#1-From now on, my coffee cup will be washed and stored upstairs, and
Lesson#2-Cockroaches love coffee. So if you work in a warehouse connected to other warehouses, the great likelihood is that a cockroach has taken a bath in your partially filled coffee cup. Ok, I know that wasn't fair, but I don't want to be the only one.
P.S. The coffee was medium roast with hazelnut creamer just in case any of you were wondering.
Prince
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
First Comes The Pain
Yesterday I went to look at an apartment not far from work. I could practically walk everyday but it's now beginning to hit me-my marriage is finally going to be over. This morning I was listening to Brian McKnight on the Wave (94.7 for those of you not in SoCal) and each morning he does a listener-requested song and this morning someone requested Cyndi Lauper's True Colors, her hit song from the 80's. There's a line in the song that says ...don't be unhappy, can't remember when I last saw you laughing and my wife said those very same words to me about a month ago. The next thing I knew, I was in the restroom weeping like a baby. I couldn't stop. After all of the struggle and disappointment I've gone through over the years, I still wish it could work. After all the lies, the deception, the misdirected anger, I still love my wife.
I think what hurt me the most was not knowing why or how this world got to the place where we damage each other so badly. I'm not talking about my wife and I, I'm talking about how people do so much damage to children. The damage that molestation and abuse does is lifelong. For this reason, there should be severe punishment for those who molest. But molestors are usually survivors of molestation. So where do you start. The perpetrators are former victims. What a mess we've made.
This is just a theory, but I believe the reasons the Italians might be so violent and despotic may have something to do with the relationship they have with the Catholic church. With all the molestation of the alter boys, the response could be an overly-aggressive disposition to prove manhood. I'm not making accusations-I don't want to be sleeping with the fishes, I just know the history of the Catholic church and their relationship with the Italian community. Perhaps that explains the Machismo that exists within latin communities.
My wife can't bring herself to trust me because someone violated her so badly as a child, she can't trust anyone. The only way she knows to respond is with anger. It's what she's used to survive for so many years. When you are 6 or 7 years old and people are doing all sorts of unspeakable things to you, your only solace is anger. You hold on to hate. I feel so sorry for her-I can walk away from it-from her. But she's got live with it for the rest of her life. I bet she wishes she could walk away from it too. Man, this world can be such an ugly place sometimes. I want to hurt the people who did this to her. Because I still love her with all of my heart-I just know that I can't be with her.
I used to think that I had an awful childhood because I didn't get a motorcycle at 14 and I didn't get a car at 16. Then I met my wife and she began to detail the things she went through as a child and all of a sudden my childhood looked Cosby-esque. I thought that after all we'd been through, it would be easy to walk away from all of this but I'm discovering that it won't be so easy. I have a habit of putting myself into the mind of other people, and I can feel their pain. It's like I have the ability to understand their experiences. There have been times when I've put myself in my wife's place and imagined the emotional trauma that comes along with the pain she's experienced and I've had to jolt myself out of it because the emotions have been too intense. We've survived almost 6 years on empathy alone-but it's become too much for me to handle because it only flows one way.
This morning I told her that she was selfish. But I don't think that's what's wrong with her. Empathy is a learned ability and it usually starts when someone shows concern for your well-being. Sadly, her mother and father were only 15 when she was born and according to my wife, she believes that her mother was being molested by her own father (my wife's grandfather). She even believes that her sister might also be her aunt (fathered by her grandfather). Sometimes I have to tell her not to tell me these things. She needs help from a professional, not from somone that visibly responds to the horror she details. That's why psychiatrist are heavily cautioned against getting involved with their patients. Once you become their love interest, you can no longer be of help to them. I'm not even a psychiatrist so I don't know why I thought I could help her. All I've done is punished her all of these years by showing her how wrong she is about everything. My poor wife-I love her dearly.
I hope that she gets help. It will take years of therapy before she can even begin to understand how upside down she's been living all of these years. It reminds me of Richard Gere in Pretty Woman when he said "I was very angry with him. Do you know how many years of therapy it took for me to be able to say that? I was very "angry" with him.". It'll be a while before she can understand anything I've tried to tell her.
I'll always love her.
RCP
I think what hurt me the most was not knowing why or how this world got to the place where we damage each other so badly. I'm not talking about my wife and I, I'm talking about how people do so much damage to children. The damage that molestation and abuse does is lifelong. For this reason, there should be severe punishment for those who molest. But molestors are usually survivors of molestation. So where do you start. The perpetrators are former victims. What a mess we've made.
This is just a theory, but I believe the reasons the Italians might be so violent and despotic may have something to do with the relationship they have with the Catholic church. With all the molestation of the alter boys, the response could be an overly-aggressive disposition to prove manhood. I'm not making accusations-I don't want to be sleeping with the fishes, I just know the history of the Catholic church and their relationship with the Italian community. Perhaps that explains the Machismo that exists within latin communities.
My wife can't bring herself to trust me because someone violated her so badly as a child, she can't trust anyone. The only way she knows to respond is with anger. It's what she's used to survive for so many years. When you are 6 or 7 years old and people are doing all sorts of unspeakable things to you, your only solace is anger. You hold on to hate. I feel so sorry for her-I can walk away from it-from her. But she's got live with it for the rest of her life. I bet she wishes she could walk away from it too. Man, this world can be such an ugly place sometimes. I want to hurt the people who did this to her. Because I still love her with all of my heart-I just know that I can't be with her.
I used to think that I had an awful childhood because I didn't get a motorcycle at 14 and I didn't get a car at 16. Then I met my wife and she began to detail the things she went through as a child and all of a sudden my childhood looked Cosby-esque. I thought that after all we'd been through, it would be easy to walk away from all of this but I'm discovering that it won't be so easy. I have a habit of putting myself into the mind of other people, and I can feel their pain. It's like I have the ability to understand their experiences. There have been times when I've put myself in my wife's place and imagined the emotional trauma that comes along with the pain she's experienced and I've had to jolt myself out of it because the emotions have been too intense. We've survived almost 6 years on empathy alone-but it's become too much for me to handle because it only flows one way.
This morning I told her that she was selfish. But I don't think that's what's wrong with her. Empathy is a learned ability and it usually starts when someone shows concern for your well-being. Sadly, her mother and father were only 15 when she was born and according to my wife, she believes that her mother was being molested by her own father (my wife's grandfather). She even believes that her sister might also be her aunt (fathered by her grandfather). Sometimes I have to tell her not to tell me these things. She needs help from a professional, not from somone that visibly responds to the horror she details. That's why psychiatrist are heavily cautioned against getting involved with their patients. Once you become their love interest, you can no longer be of help to them. I'm not even a psychiatrist so I don't know why I thought I could help her. All I've done is punished her all of these years by showing her how wrong she is about everything. My poor wife-I love her dearly.
I hope that she gets help. It will take years of therapy before she can even begin to understand how upside down she's been living all of these years. It reminds me of Richard Gere in Pretty Woman when he said "I was very angry with him. Do you know how many years of therapy it took for me to be able to say that? I was very "angry" with him.". It'll be a while before she can understand anything I've tried to tell her.
I'll always love her.
RCP
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Double Negatives
Double Negatives
My baby speaks in double negatives
“He don’t want me no more”
And she’s right, I don’t want her no more
I love everything about her but the problem is
She don’t really love herself
I don’t want her no more
I want her to be the mother of my children
Okay, at least one of them
I want to grow old with her, to take care of her when she’s sick
And cook for her when she’s hungry
I want to take her on long drawn-out vacations
Where we lie around the pool all day and dance ‘til the sun comes up
The only problem is, she thinks I don’t want her no more
And she’s right, I don’t want her no more
I want to shower her with gifts, even when it isn’t her birthday or Christmas
I want to make love to her so passionately
That our souls become one and our bodies meld into
One big knot of sex and sweat and flesh
Making it completely impossible to tell where she ends and where I begin
I want to marry her, make her my wife
Make her the center of my universe
Give her my life
I want her to wear my name with the pride of a street cop
On the first day he gets his detective’s badge
But she thinks I don’t want her no more
This world has so confused us that
We no longer know when we speak the truth
She thinks I don’t want her no more
And you know what? She’s right,
I don’t want her no more
And I love her
My baby speaks in double negatives
“He don’t want me no more”
And she’s right, I don’t want her no more
I love everything about her but the problem is
She don’t really love herself
I don’t want her no more
I want her to be the mother of my children
Okay, at least one of them
I want to grow old with her, to take care of her when she’s sick
And cook for her when she’s hungry
I want to take her on long drawn-out vacations
Where we lie around the pool all day and dance ‘til the sun comes up
The only problem is, she thinks I don’t want her no more
And she’s right, I don’t want her no more
I want to shower her with gifts, even when it isn’t her birthday or Christmas
I want to make love to her so passionately
That our souls become one and our bodies meld into
One big knot of sex and sweat and flesh
Making it completely impossible to tell where she ends and where I begin
I want to marry her, make her my wife
Make her the center of my universe
Give her my life
I want her to wear my name with the pride of a street cop
On the first day he gets his detective’s badge
But she thinks I don’t want her no more
This world has so confused us that
We no longer know when we speak the truth
She thinks I don’t want her no more
And you know what? She’s right,
I don’t want her no more
And I love her
Friday, June 08, 2007
Dear Diary.....
That sounds so unmale. Anyway....
Dear Diary,
This morning I met my abs for the 1st time. Actually I've seen glimpses of them-like one might catch a glimpse of a fawn in the early morning as it darts past your garden window. After months and months of intensive work outs, I'm finally starting to see those illusive 6-pack abs. I have to be honest when I say that I never thought it would be possible. What kept me going? Well, my mentor started 5 years ago and now he has the body of a fucking god. And as he's always told me-you have to see to be. I've always been the type who thinks that if someone I know can do it, so can I. Now of course this theory has its limitations. I know people who can slam dunk a basketball on a standard 10' rim. I can't do that (now, but one point in my younger years I came really close).
I haven't said much about my marriage but I'm in the process of moving out. My soon-to-be ex wife and I had a conversation this morning about an incident that occurred a couple of years ago between a friend of hers and I. To put it bluntly, the girl and I had sex several times. When I mentioned to my wife that when she found out I just took my punishment, she asked "What punishment. I didn't get mad-you'd already expressed an interest in fucking her." I know this might sound crazy to those who read it but my I discovered that my wife cheated on me less than 1 month after our wedding day. I told her that if she wanted to stay she could, but she would have to accept the fact that I would never be monogamous again. I had a right to fuck whomever I choose. She accepted it.
"So if she accepted it, what's with the punishment?" you may ask, as she did. I explained to her that relationships are like a pure and clean glass of water. The moment something falls into that glass of water, we consider it tainted and most likely won't drink it. I knew that, no matter how many times my wife told me that she didn't get mad, I knew it affected our relationship. The water, although previously polluted, had been tainted even further.
I gotta get ready for work.
The Prince of Know Where?
Dear Diary,
This morning I met my abs for the 1st time. Actually I've seen glimpses of them-like one might catch a glimpse of a fawn in the early morning as it darts past your garden window. After months and months of intensive work outs, I'm finally starting to see those illusive 6-pack abs. I have to be honest when I say that I never thought it would be possible. What kept me going? Well, my mentor started 5 years ago and now he has the body of a fucking god. And as he's always told me-you have to see to be. I've always been the type who thinks that if someone I know can do it, so can I. Now of course this theory has its limitations. I know people who can slam dunk a basketball on a standard 10' rim. I can't do that (now, but one point in my younger years I came really close).
I haven't said much about my marriage but I'm in the process of moving out. My soon-to-be ex wife and I had a conversation this morning about an incident that occurred a couple of years ago between a friend of hers and I. To put it bluntly, the girl and I had sex several times. When I mentioned to my wife that when she found out I just took my punishment, she asked "What punishment. I didn't get mad-you'd already expressed an interest in fucking her." I know this might sound crazy to those who read it but my I discovered that my wife cheated on me less than 1 month after our wedding day. I told her that if she wanted to stay she could, but she would have to accept the fact that I would never be monogamous again. I had a right to fuck whomever I choose. She accepted it.
"So if she accepted it, what's with the punishment?" you may ask, as she did. I explained to her that relationships are like a pure and clean glass of water. The moment something falls into that glass of water, we consider it tainted and most likely won't drink it. I knew that, no matter how many times my wife told me that she didn't get mad, I knew it affected our relationship. The water, although previously polluted, had been tainted even further.
I gotta get ready for work.
The Prince of Know Where?
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