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
Monday, August 20, 2007
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?
Thursday, May 31, 2007
She Rides!!!
Memorial Day will be a day to remember. I went to visit my 5 year old out in the I.E. As usual, we make a day of fun out my visits. We usually play catch, dodge ball, or I'll play fight with her and allow her to get the best of dear old dad. We sometimes cap the day off with a trip to the park where she climbs on all of the equipment and makes me watch every trip down the slide. We chase the ice cream truck and I buy her favorite flavor. At the end, it's always difficult to leave. She never cries but she always begs me to stay longer. Most often I oblige.
This trip, however, was a little different. We were playing catch in the back yard and I noticed her bicycle with training wheels sitting off in a corner. "Go bring daddy a wrench." I asked her. She later returned with the appropriate tool and I commenced to removing the training wheels.
"It's time you learn to ride without there." I told her.
"But I like my training wheels." she replied with a detectable amount of fear in her voice.
"Don't worry, you won't need them." I assured her.
After removing the wheels we went out into the street and I gave her a few instructions and off we went with me holding her up as she struggled to maintain her balance.
"Turn your wheel in the direction that you feel that you are leaning and you'll upright yourself." I told her and she obeyed. After a couple of trips up and down the street I decided to let her go and she rode a good 10 feet before putting her feet on the ground.
"I was riding by myself!" she exclaimed with excitement.
"Yes, you were." I said proudly.
We we repeated this process several times and each time she increased her riding distance. Before long she only needed me to help her get started. She negotiated her first turn with difficulty, but she managed to turn around. For a while I ran next to her, but eventually just let her ride alone with me shouting instructions.
"A car is coming, turn into a driveway. Don't panic, just turn into a driveway." At first she would panic, but she began talking to herself, "Don't panic-turn into a driveway when you see a car."
Needless to say I was so proud at how she incorporated the instructions into her riding. Eventually she got to the point where she would just ride close to the curb and allow the car to pass.
Finally she let me know that she was tired and wanted to rest. We went into the backyard again and now she wanted me to continue showing her how to hit the beachball volleyball style so that she could control the direction it went. At the end of the day, she recapped all that she had learned.
"Today, you taught me how to ride my bike, hit the beach ball and kick the soccer ball."
"Yes princess, and you did all of them well." I said giving her a huge Daddy-style hug.
My daughter is the most precious person in the world to me. Watching her grow and learn and reason is more than I could ever ask for. I look forward to all of the things I will teach her in the future. Swimming, skiing, shooting a basketball, target practice with a firearm (something I taught my son at 15), and anything else I can think of. I want her to be the most well-rounded person and I know that it's up to me to make sure that happens.
What a joy she's been to me.
The Prince
This trip, however, was a little different. We were playing catch in the back yard and I noticed her bicycle with training wheels sitting off in a corner. "Go bring daddy a wrench." I asked her. She later returned with the appropriate tool and I commenced to removing the training wheels.
"It's time you learn to ride without there." I told her.
"But I like my training wheels." she replied with a detectable amount of fear in her voice.
"Don't worry, you won't need them." I assured her.
After removing the wheels we went out into the street and I gave her a few instructions and off we went with me holding her up as she struggled to maintain her balance.
"Turn your wheel in the direction that you feel that you are leaning and you'll upright yourself." I told her and she obeyed. After a couple of trips up and down the street I decided to let her go and she rode a good 10 feet before putting her feet on the ground.
"I was riding by myself!" she exclaimed with excitement.
"Yes, you were." I said proudly.
We we repeated this process several times and each time she increased her riding distance. Before long she only needed me to help her get started. She negotiated her first turn with difficulty, but she managed to turn around. For a while I ran next to her, but eventually just let her ride alone with me shouting instructions.
"A car is coming, turn into a driveway. Don't panic, just turn into a driveway." At first she would panic, but she began talking to herself, "Don't panic-turn into a driveway when you see a car."
Needless to say I was so proud at how she incorporated the instructions into her riding. Eventually she got to the point where she would just ride close to the curb and allow the car to pass.
Finally she let me know that she was tired and wanted to rest. We went into the backyard again and now she wanted me to continue showing her how to hit the beachball volleyball style so that she could control the direction it went. At the end of the day, she recapped all that she had learned.
"Today, you taught me how to ride my bike, hit the beach ball and kick the soccer ball."
"Yes princess, and you did all of them well." I said giving her a huge Daddy-style hug.
My daughter is the most precious person in the world to me. Watching her grow and learn and reason is more than I could ever ask for. I look forward to all of the things I will teach her in the future. Swimming, skiing, shooting a basketball, target practice with a firearm (something I taught my son at 15), and anything else I can think of. I want her to be the most well-rounded person and I know that it's up to me to make sure that happens.
What a joy she's been to me.
The Prince
Thursday, May 17, 2007
For Whom The Bell Tolls
I'm in a quandary over so many things these days, but one thing's for certain-my marriage is pretty much done. It sort of feels like when that terminally ill relative who has been hanging on for years finally passes; for obvious reasons you can't bring yourself to feel sad-yet you feel that you should. Last night my (soon to be ex) wife and I got into a bitter, brutal battle. She's once again gone through my personal belongings and discovered I had lunch with another woman. After I've told her on many occasions that I've declared myself free to date whomever I choose. She still insists on this type of behavior.
The mere fact that she discovered this information the very same day it occurred leads to only one conclusion-she's been snooping through my phone on a daily basis-looking for something. I've on several occasions found the complete contents of my cell phone copied either in her phone or on some tablet in her possession. The reasoning behind this I don't know but I know it can't be good. She'd done this once before to get names of people she invited to a surprise birthday party at Acapulco's restaurant. Nothing I do discourages this type of behavior. I know she's been doing it for a while, even after I told her that who I decide to fuck is my business.
I refuse to lock my phone, I don't believe I should have to. Not to mention the fact that I don't have anything to hide. But I know the moment she decides to call and can't get a hold of me, she's going to call the girl I had lunch with. This existence is so pathetic-and so is she. She's done everything in her power to ruin our marriage-infidelity, lying, complete and utter financial irresponsibility. I had no idea human beings could be so awful and still be allowed to be a part of our society. If this was a Native-American society, she would be banished from the tribe for her behavior. But then again, she wouldn't be as awful a person because she would have been treated in a kind way as a child.
I'm not quite sure how this chapter will end but one thing is for certain, it will end.
The mere fact that she discovered this information the very same day it occurred leads to only one conclusion-she's been snooping through my phone on a daily basis-looking for something. I've on several occasions found the complete contents of my cell phone copied either in her phone or on some tablet in her possession. The reasoning behind this I don't know but I know it can't be good. She'd done this once before to get names of people she invited to a surprise birthday party at Acapulco's restaurant. Nothing I do discourages this type of behavior. I know she's been doing it for a while, even after I told her that who I decide to fuck is my business.
I refuse to lock my phone, I don't believe I should have to. Not to mention the fact that I don't have anything to hide. But I know the moment she decides to call and can't get a hold of me, she's going to call the girl I had lunch with. This existence is so pathetic-and so is she. She's done everything in her power to ruin our marriage-infidelity, lying, complete and utter financial irresponsibility. I had no idea human beings could be so awful and still be allowed to be a part of our society. If this was a Native-American society, she would be banished from the tribe for her behavior. But then again, she wouldn't be as awful a person because she would have been treated in a kind way as a child.
I'm not quite sure how this chapter will end but one thing is for certain, it will end.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Homosexuality and the Black Community
I think we might have all drank the Kool-Aid. I was talking to my brother-in-law yesterday regarding being propositioned by gay men and how I was weirded out by an overly-aggressive male once in the '90's. He shared with me an experience he had that wasn't a homosexual one, but was as equally weird to him. He attended school in Kenya for a year in the 90's and had many Kenyan friends. Part of the Kenyan culture is for males to hold hands and one of his Kenyan friends grabbed his hand while walking down the street one day. This was actually an honorable gesture-it basically demonstrates respect and admiration and to refuse would be to insult the one initiating the gesture. This gesture, however, is in no way homosexual. My brother-in-law went on to say that homosexuality does not exist in the Kenyan culture-he said that it has to be imported.
This conversation puts me one step closer to accepting my theory about how homosexuality found it's way amongst African-Americans. I've long believed that slave masters not only raped slave women and children, but slave men as well. Of course no one will ever speak about it publicly (much less admit it if confronted with the subject), but I am pretty close to accepting this theory as fact. Given the nature of those who were in power and how they justified some of their actions, it isn't too far-fetched a theory. Not to mention the fact that slave masters had complete autonomy over their slaves. And if we are to believe noted British historian Lord Acton, a person’s sense of morality lessens as his or her power increases. He coined the phrase Power tends to corrupt. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. With the ability to do whatever you want to people, there's no telling what one might do.
We've but to look back throughout recent history if we need proof to substantiate this belief. In fact Abu Grahib is a perfect example. I couldn't for the life of me understand why it was necessary to stack naked, imprisoned men on top of one another. Some men were forced to put their faces in other men's pubic regions. Why? Isn't the fact that they are imprisoned against their will enough? And if torturing them or at least making them uncomfortable was necessary, why homosexual acts. I've heard the arguments from pundits who say that it's unacceptable in their culture therefore it was done because they didn't like it. Okay, I understand that, but wasn't their other things you could have done to cause them discomfort like having them sleep on a hard surface or limiting their exposure to the great outdoors. I know that would be enough to cause me discomfort.
I believe that this was an opportunity for those in charge to live out their own fantasies-to display the sickness that exists in their own minds. It's no different than what happens in prison throughout this country. If homosexuality is a sin, then why isn't every famous televangelist protesting the existence of prisons? Homosexual acts are almost encouraged in prison. The guards allow it to take place. Why do we allow institutions such as these to exist in our culture? In more civilized European societies, (those with fewer foreigners), their exists prison whereby inmates' wives can visit (long-term). And prison rapes are almost nonexistent. Prisons and Catholic churches seem to be the two institutions where there exists a tacit acceptance of homosexual behavior.
I can't say for certain that homosexuality was introduced to native Africans by Europeans. But one thing I can most certainly say is Rome-and I don't think I need to say too much else. Anyone who doesn't know how homosexuality and child molestation was condoned by Romans (and they have the nerve to call it Roman Civilization) is simply living in a opaque, soundproof bubble. The seat of the Catholic church, The Vatican City, sits right smack dab in the middle of Rome. And the I don't think their is a corner of the planet that doesn't have a Catholic outpost in the neighborhood.
I don't know if I'll ever fully know the truth, but one thing's for certain-the nonexistence of homosexuality in Kenya speaks volumes about where such an unnatural act of congruence might have originated.
This conversation puts me one step closer to accepting my theory about how homosexuality found it's way amongst African-Americans. I've long believed that slave masters not only raped slave women and children, but slave men as well. Of course no one will ever speak about it publicly (much less admit it if confronted with the subject), but I am pretty close to accepting this theory as fact. Given the nature of those who were in power and how they justified some of their actions, it isn't too far-fetched a theory. Not to mention the fact that slave masters had complete autonomy over their slaves. And if we are to believe noted British historian Lord Acton, a person’s sense of morality lessens as his or her power increases. He coined the phrase Power tends to corrupt. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. With the ability to do whatever you want to people, there's no telling what one might do.
We've but to look back throughout recent history if we need proof to substantiate this belief. In fact Abu Grahib is a perfect example. I couldn't for the life of me understand why it was necessary to stack naked, imprisoned men on top of one another. Some men were forced to put their faces in other men's pubic regions. Why? Isn't the fact that they are imprisoned against their will enough? And if torturing them or at least making them uncomfortable was necessary, why homosexual acts. I've heard the arguments from pundits who say that it's unacceptable in their culture therefore it was done because they didn't like it. Okay, I understand that, but wasn't their other things you could have done to cause them discomfort like having them sleep on a hard surface or limiting their exposure to the great outdoors. I know that would be enough to cause me discomfort.
I believe that this was an opportunity for those in charge to live out their own fantasies-to display the sickness that exists in their own minds. It's no different than what happens in prison throughout this country. If homosexuality is a sin, then why isn't every famous televangelist protesting the existence of prisons? Homosexual acts are almost encouraged in prison. The guards allow it to take place. Why do we allow institutions such as these to exist in our culture? In more civilized European societies, (those with fewer foreigners), their exists prison whereby inmates' wives can visit (long-term). And prison rapes are almost nonexistent. Prisons and Catholic churches seem to be the two institutions where there exists a tacit acceptance of homosexual behavior.
I can't say for certain that homosexuality was introduced to native Africans by Europeans. But one thing I can most certainly say is Rome-and I don't think I need to say too much else. Anyone who doesn't know how homosexuality and child molestation was condoned by Romans (and they have the nerve to call it Roman Civilization) is simply living in a opaque, soundproof bubble. The seat of the Catholic church, The Vatican City, sits right smack dab in the middle of Rome. And the I don't think their is a corner of the planet that doesn't have a Catholic outpost in the neighborhood.
I don't know if I'll ever fully know the truth, but one thing's for certain-the nonexistence of homosexuality in Kenya speaks volumes about where such an unnatural act of congruence might have originated.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Porno for Normos
I'm often amazed at how so much attention is focused on television content in this country. We are so afraid that our children will be negatively influenced by images that fly across the screen. Although I am in total agreement that there is probably too much risque behavior on television, I also think it's more how we view it than anything else. Often the way you look at things really has more profound affect than the thing itself. Take for instance Kirk Franklin. Kirky boy admitted on national television, on OPRAH of all places, that he was addicted to porn. I listened to his story intently because I too am a fan of porn, (notice I didn't say addicted). Kirk struggled because instead of accepting his affinity for naked images of (I hope) women, he allowed himself to be divided. There is no doubt that the naked image of a woman, and even more so of a woman engaging in sexual activity, will have an affect on you if you are a healthy heterosexual male. The problem comes when someone has told you that there is something sinfully wrong about that chemical reaction. Eventually, you become at odds with yourself and you struggle with wanting to indulge, but feeling weak and like a failure.
I remember the first time I discovered porn, and then later masturbation. At the tender age of 12, I immediately declared both ok in my book. I vowed not to let anything or anyone come between my own self gratification. Tell me I would go blind, tell me that the palms of my hands would become hairy, I didn't care-I'd just be a hairy-palmed blind man. In my book, I don't have an addiction to porn. Yes I view it daily, but does that mean I'm addicted? I dare so no. I like it, I view it, there. Let's move on.
Kirk regaled us with tales of driving 40 miles in the middle of the night to throw a porno magazine in a dumpster-driving back home, only to get in his car and drive back to the scene of the dumping to retrieve said magazine. In my most humble opinion, he's not addicted-he's nuts! First of all, if I threw a magazine away, it wouldn't be 40 miles away. Second, if I threw it away, I wouldn't have a problem parting with it. Kirk's problem is he hasn't accepted his (probably excessive, but in no way addictive) desire for porn. Nature takes it's course and some idiomatic religious dogma planted in your head long before you were able to defend yourself kicks in and starts telling you that you're a failure. Telling you that what you're feeling is wrong and that you should stop feelilng that way. There only three people types of males that are not affected by images of naked women: homosexual men, infant males, and old senile males. Any other heterosexual male that see an image of a naked woman and says that they aren't the least bit aroused are liars. Be them priests, rabbis, reverends, or popes-the power of the naked woman's affect on a man cannot be denied.
Is Kirk addicted? No-Kirk Franklin's conflicted. There's a major difference. If it wasn't so forbidden, he wouldn't have the urge to get rid of it. If he could satiate his appetite without guilt, those urges would be less intense. If he could sit in his house, on his couch, with his feet on his coffee table, and look at a porno mag or watch an adult dvd, without having his wife or his peers deem him a sinner, those urges would subside. But the shroud of secrecy-the fear of being caught adds to heightened arousal. The sweaty palms, the rapidly beating heart, the shortness of breath, associated with the provacative images, intensifies the experience. Take away the secrecy and the fear of being caught and I guarantee he'll bore of it. And if he doesn't, so what-let him gawk. Who's he harming? I'm so damn sick of hearing that ridiculous argument that porn exploits women. Oh really? How? If I look at a naked picture of (God forbid) Paris Hilton, does she know I'm looking? How is she affected because I'm looking? Does she get an irritating rash on the parts that I'm looking at just because I'm looking? No. She's probably sitting in her Bentley not even caring that I'm looking at her hideously ugly vagina on the internet (and yes I've seen it).
We continually want to blame the looker and not the poser. How am I exploiting her if she voluntarily posed? But it's the feminist ideological Evil Man who is responsible for EVERYTHING that has happened to women. We are blamed because nature made us attracted to women.
And finally, why is the naked image acceptable if it is considered art? That shit is porno to me. Or porno is art. One or the other. But to me, the line separating the two is so permeable, it exists without my detection.
RCP
I remember the first time I discovered porn, and then later masturbation. At the tender age of 12, I immediately declared both ok in my book. I vowed not to let anything or anyone come between my own self gratification. Tell me I would go blind, tell me that the palms of my hands would become hairy, I didn't care-I'd just be a hairy-palmed blind man. In my book, I don't have an addiction to porn. Yes I view it daily, but does that mean I'm addicted? I dare so no. I like it, I view it, there. Let's move on.
Kirk regaled us with tales of driving 40 miles in the middle of the night to throw a porno magazine in a dumpster-driving back home, only to get in his car and drive back to the scene of the dumping to retrieve said magazine. In my most humble opinion, he's not addicted-he's nuts! First of all, if I threw a magazine away, it wouldn't be 40 miles away. Second, if I threw it away, I wouldn't have a problem parting with it. Kirk's problem is he hasn't accepted his (probably excessive, but in no way addictive) desire for porn. Nature takes it's course and some idiomatic religious dogma planted in your head long before you were able to defend yourself kicks in and starts telling you that you're a failure. Telling you that what you're feeling is wrong and that you should stop feelilng that way. There only three people types of males that are not affected by images of naked women: homosexual men, infant males, and old senile males. Any other heterosexual male that see an image of a naked woman and says that they aren't the least bit aroused are liars. Be them priests, rabbis, reverends, or popes-the power of the naked woman's affect on a man cannot be denied.
Is Kirk addicted? No-Kirk Franklin's conflicted. There's a major difference. If it wasn't so forbidden, he wouldn't have the urge to get rid of it. If he could satiate his appetite without guilt, those urges would be less intense. If he could sit in his house, on his couch, with his feet on his coffee table, and look at a porno mag or watch an adult dvd, without having his wife or his peers deem him a sinner, those urges would subside. But the shroud of secrecy-the fear of being caught adds to heightened arousal. The sweaty palms, the rapidly beating heart, the shortness of breath, associated with the provacative images, intensifies the experience. Take away the secrecy and the fear of being caught and I guarantee he'll bore of it. And if he doesn't, so what-let him gawk. Who's he harming? I'm so damn sick of hearing that ridiculous argument that porn exploits women. Oh really? How? If I look at a naked picture of (God forbid) Paris Hilton, does she know I'm looking? How is she affected because I'm looking? Does she get an irritating rash on the parts that I'm looking at just because I'm looking? No. She's probably sitting in her Bentley not even caring that I'm looking at her hideously ugly vagina on the internet (and yes I've seen it).
We continually want to blame the looker and not the poser. How am I exploiting her if she voluntarily posed? But it's the feminist ideological Evil Man who is responsible for EVERYTHING that has happened to women. We are blamed because nature made us attracted to women.
And finally, why is the naked image acceptable if it is considered art? That shit is porno to me. Or porno is art. One or the other. But to me, the line separating the two is so permeable, it exists without my detection.
RCP
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Bored To Tears
There isn't much going on at work today. I've made all of my calls to my clients and it's only 9:23 a.m. and I have to be here 'til 5pm. My boss is in China and, although I have a few things to do, if I do them now, I'll really be bored and won't have anything to do for the rest of the day.
I'm listening to KPFK but in 30 minutes they play international music. Although I'm a music lover, banging tambourines from Sri Lanka isn't exactly my idea of listening pleasure. No offense to anyone from Sri Lanka-I love the way you put S before the R without the supportive E vowel. It just rolls off the tongue in a sexy way. Sri.
You know I'm bored when I'm writing complete paragraphs about the word Sri. I would like to add a quote that I thought of the other morning. I don't know if I read it somewhere or not but I believe it's original. Read below:
EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO SPEAK IS AN OPPORTUNITY TO TEACH. EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO LISTEN IS AN OPPORTUNITY TO LEARN.
Again, like I said, there's a possibility I read that somewhere a long time ago, and it's now, like the husk of popcorn wedged between ones tooth and gum, has worked it's way up to my consciousness.
I think it's a rather profound quote. I think that so many of our conversations are just useless babble. I think people are uncomfortable speaking about topics that they aren't well versed in. And when the intellects amongst us begin to speak, we shy away. Most of my conversations are laced with some manner of teaching. I believe it's simply sharing information-but isn't that the same as teaching? It doesn't matter if the information is accurate-the sharing of information is a form of teaching. I will take it a step further and say that one should teach righteously and accurately, but the basics of teaching are neutral. One can learn positive behaviors just as easily a they can learn negative or damaging behaviors. That is why it is extremely critical to this government that they mandate what is taught in public schools. We learn watered down history because if you truly knew how this country was formed, you wouldn't feel so good about yourself. I'm rambling.
Anyway, I'm going back to work.
RCP
I'm listening to KPFK but in 30 minutes they play international music. Although I'm a music lover, banging tambourines from Sri Lanka isn't exactly my idea of listening pleasure. No offense to anyone from Sri Lanka-I love the way you put S before the R without the supportive E vowel. It just rolls off the tongue in a sexy way. Sri.
You know I'm bored when I'm writing complete paragraphs about the word Sri. I would like to add a quote that I thought of the other morning. I don't know if I read it somewhere or not but I believe it's original. Read below:
EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO SPEAK IS AN OPPORTUNITY TO TEACH. EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO LISTEN IS AN OPPORTUNITY TO LEARN.
Again, like I said, there's a possibility I read that somewhere a long time ago, and it's now, like the husk of popcorn wedged between ones tooth and gum, has worked it's way up to my consciousness.
I think it's a rather profound quote. I think that so many of our conversations are just useless babble. I think people are uncomfortable speaking about topics that they aren't well versed in. And when the intellects amongst us begin to speak, we shy away. Most of my conversations are laced with some manner of teaching. I believe it's simply sharing information-but isn't that the same as teaching? It doesn't matter if the information is accurate-the sharing of information is a form of teaching. I will take it a step further and say that one should teach righteously and accurately, but the basics of teaching are neutral. One can learn positive behaviors just as easily a they can learn negative or damaging behaviors. That is why it is extremely critical to this government that they mandate what is taught in public schools. We learn watered down history because if you truly knew how this country was formed, you wouldn't feel so good about yourself. I'm rambling.
Anyway, I'm going back to work.
RCP
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Virginia Apologizes for Slavery
WHOOHOOO!!! Pass the peas, Virginia decided to officially apologize for her role in slavery, after one of it's delegates publically stated that African-Americans should get over slavery. I think it would have had a more sincere meaning if A). it wouldn't have come after the politically incorrect and insensitive remarks made by 80 year old Delegate Frank Hargrove and B). there was a financial disposition attached to it. Oh yeah, and they threw in a shot out to the Native Americans too (since they were in such an apologetic mood, I guess they decided to kill two birds).
Frankly, no pun intended, I couldn't give a rats ass about an apology. I lump it in the category with all those treaties with Native Americans that you didn't mean either. More importantly, to me at least, is that you recognize the unfair economic advantage that white Americans experienced during those times and fairly compensate the African-American nation that resides within the borders of the USA. Am I talking reparations? No, I'm talking Just Compensation. Share the wealth. The price that the continent of Africa suffered, and her people who were brought here and severed from all that they knew; beaten, brutalized, and murdered unmercifully, deserves more than a mia culpa apology from one tiny state in the union.
Do I think Just Compensation will ever happen? No. Power and money usually isn't ceded without a firm and steady twisting of the arm of sorts. And America knows that African-Americans aren't in the mental position to do any long-termed mental arm twisting. We may shout, jump up and down, and march around carrying signs and singing "We shall overcome," but we aren't going to voluntarily do anything that takes us out of our comfort zone. She knows that if the Bloods and the Crips ever stopped killing each long enough to see that historically, the federal government has always had it out for them, she might have a larger problem on her hands than she thought possible. Those guys are seasoned killers, and they almost pulled it off after the Rodney King beating, but weak minds are easily distracted and it wasn't long before they were back murdering one another in the streets of Los Angeles.
It was once believed that America's greatest fear was the Black man. Even I thought that to be the case. I was always reminded of that when I walked down the street and witnessed white women clutching their purses tighter or lock their car doors when I walked by. But then I realized that America doesn't fear the Black man. She doesn't fear the physically imposing and strong Black males you see during professional football games either. It wasn't until I began going back to the gym on a regular basis and commiting myself to physical strength conditioning that I began realizing what she really feared: A Black man whose mind and body are equally strong. Not only does he possess the physical ability to destroy you, he has the mental capacity to out manuever you as well. That is why the image of the Black male lacking scholastical aptitude is extremely important to perpetuate, and early on in his developmental stages. I can remember having the ability to read and write at a very young age-well before I attended school. But by the 4th grade, I was somehow put in a remedial reading class. By the time I reached high school, I was failing classes and barely attending classes at all. Eventually, I dropped out, took my G.E.D. and joined the USAF. I remember scoring extremely high on the G.E.D. and the lady administering the test asking me why I wasn't finishing school. It was obvious I had the knowledge. I filed that conversation away in the back of my mind because it was to become extremely useful as I dealt with the stigma of failing high school. I would always remember the words of that woman. Those words I carried with me when, for the first time in my life, I walked across a stage an accepted a diploma-my Bachelor of Science degree in Business Management.
As long as Black women continue to, unknowingly, continue the cycle of Willie Lynch and retard the mental abilities of Black men, America knows she has nothing to fear. She will never have to worry about a collective race of people standing together and demanding more than just a token apology; demanding an equal place at the table of the civilized. As long as we've got MTV, BET, and a populace whose measured collective average intelligence rises no higher than G.E.D., she won't be cutting checks anytime soon.
RCP
Frankly, no pun intended, I couldn't give a rats ass about an apology. I lump it in the category with all those treaties with Native Americans that you didn't mean either. More importantly, to me at least, is that you recognize the unfair economic advantage that white Americans experienced during those times and fairly compensate the African-American nation that resides within the borders of the USA. Am I talking reparations? No, I'm talking Just Compensation. Share the wealth. The price that the continent of Africa suffered, and her people who were brought here and severed from all that they knew; beaten, brutalized, and murdered unmercifully, deserves more than a mia culpa apology from one tiny state in the union.
Do I think Just Compensation will ever happen? No. Power and money usually isn't ceded without a firm and steady twisting of the arm of sorts. And America knows that African-Americans aren't in the mental position to do any long-termed mental arm twisting. We may shout, jump up and down, and march around carrying signs and singing "We shall overcome," but we aren't going to voluntarily do anything that takes us out of our comfort zone. She knows that if the Bloods and the Crips ever stopped killing each long enough to see that historically, the federal government has always had it out for them, she might have a larger problem on her hands than she thought possible. Those guys are seasoned killers, and they almost pulled it off after the Rodney King beating, but weak minds are easily distracted and it wasn't long before they were back murdering one another in the streets of Los Angeles.
It was once believed that America's greatest fear was the Black man. Even I thought that to be the case. I was always reminded of that when I walked down the street and witnessed white women clutching their purses tighter or lock their car doors when I walked by. But then I realized that America doesn't fear the Black man. She doesn't fear the physically imposing and strong Black males you see during professional football games either. It wasn't until I began going back to the gym on a regular basis and commiting myself to physical strength conditioning that I began realizing what she really feared: A Black man whose mind and body are equally strong. Not only does he possess the physical ability to destroy you, he has the mental capacity to out manuever you as well. That is why the image of the Black male lacking scholastical aptitude is extremely important to perpetuate, and early on in his developmental stages. I can remember having the ability to read and write at a very young age-well before I attended school. But by the 4th grade, I was somehow put in a remedial reading class. By the time I reached high school, I was failing classes and barely attending classes at all. Eventually, I dropped out, took my G.E.D. and joined the USAF. I remember scoring extremely high on the G.E.D. and the lady administering the test asking me why I wasn't finishing school. It was obvious I had the knowledge. I filed that conversation away in the back of my mind because it was to become extremely useful as I dealt with the stigma of failing high school. I would always remember the words of that woman. Those words I carried with me when, for the first time in my life, I walked across a stage an accepted a diploma-my Bachelor of Science degree in Business Management.
As long as Black women continue to, unknowingly, continue the cycle of Willie Lynch and retard the mental abilities of Black men, America knows she has nothing to fear. She will never have to worry about a collective race of people standing together and demanding more than just a token apology; demanding an equal place at the table of the civilized. As long as we've got MTV, BET, and a populace whose measured collective average intelligence rises no higher than G.E.D., she won't be cutting checks anytime soon.
RCP
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Bastards of the Party
This is a must see for anyone who is remotely linked to the Los Angeles and it's gang problem. Cle "Bone" Sloan in his freshman production manages to capture the history of African-American's and their strained relationship with the city of Los Angeles and the federal government. He provides a rich backdrop that lays a foundation of gang relations not only with the community, but with political parties and even the F.B.I. and specifically J. Edgar Hoover and the infamous Counter Intelligence Program used to dismantle the Black Panther Party, Malcolm X, and Martin Luther King jr.
Bastards poses many questions but attempts to answer none. It highlights the depth at which the gang problem exists in Los Angeles. Those who think that a simple cease fire or truce will lessen the tensions between the government manufactured enemies delude themselves. Sloan was able to reveal a deep-seated hatred between the red and blue factions that won't be easily appeased. Even when a loosely arranged truce was arranged, gang members themselves testify to LAPD involvement in keeping tensions between the two groups high. One gang member said that police officers confiscated his car, drove it to a rival gang neighborhood and conducted a drive-by-then returned his car to him.
Gang members still fear that any truce will not be upheld by rival members still grieving over fallen comrades. Listening to the testimony of member after member, its easy to see that the problem is far more complex than what meets the eye. I've contemplated how the problem could be solved and the only solution two solutions I arrived at were to either scatter all members across the United States to locations where tensions do not exist (which is virtually impossible), or if a common enemy similar to the one that appeared during the uprising in 1992 after the Rodney King injustice. Rivalrys were laid aside long enough to vent frustrations with the justice system that have been long standing.
I would like to see my brothers in Los Angeles put their weaponry aside long enough to join hands and rebuild their community. I would like them to recognize that, like all other people, we do have a common interest-it's called survival and it is so much sweeter when communities and together and tackle the problem as one.
The Prince
Bastards poses many questions but attempts to answer none. It highlights the depth at which the gang problem exists in Los Angeles. Those who think that a simple cease fire or truce will lessen the tensions between the government manufactured enemies delude themselves. Sloan was able to reveal a deep-seated hatred between the red and blue factions that won't be easily appeased. Even when a loosely arranged truce was arranged, gang members themselves testify to LAPD involvement in keeping tensions between the two groups high. One gang member said that police officers confiscated his car, drove it to a rival gang neighborhood and conducted a drive-by-then returned his car to him.
Gang members still fear that any truce will not be upheld by rival members still grieving over fallen comrades. Listening to the testimony of member after member, its easy to see that the problem is far more complex than what meets the eye. I've contemplated how the problem could be solved and the only solution two solutions I arrived at were to either scatter all members across the United States to locations where tensions do not exist (which is virtually impossible), or if a common enemy similar to the one that appeared during the uprising in 1992 after the Rodney King injustice. Rivalrys were laid aside long enough to vent frustrations with the justice system that have been long standing.
I would like to see my brothers in Los Angeles put their weaponry aside long enough to join hands and rebuild their community. I would like them to recognize that, like all other people, we do have a common interest-it's called survival and it is so much sweeter when communities and together and tackle the problem as one.
The Prince
Sunday, February 04, 2007
The L Word
I like the "L" word. I watch it religiously every season and I love the characters. The show is well written and, although it has nothing to do with heterosexual males, I feel priveleged to be able to look in on a world that absolutely loathes me. Perhaps it something I'm used to. Being an African-American in a world that views me as the lowest thing on the planet perhaps has prepared me for being on the outside-never ever fully being accepted. I don't feel a part of anything in this world. My family doesn't fully understand me-but they tolerate me. I don't feel close to anyone anymore. But for one day of the week, I bask in the reverly lesbians enjoying a world without men.
I don't blame them-men have been pretty awful to women throughout history. I'm watching Marle Matlin and Jennifer Beals get high and I miss it (getting high that is). When I got high every night of the week, I enjoyed losing myself and not worrying as much about things as I do when I'm sober. I haven't smoked in so long and I know that it's best for me that I don't. I can't focus when I do. I try to remember things but give up because I just don't give a fuck. But I digress-I just wish that I could find that which I'm looking for. Some enclave that understands my sufferage. Perhaps I'll die without ever finding it.
It's funny to watch the women of the L word acting just like men. It's weird. They've condemned us for behaving this way for decades, and when finally they discover autonomy, they emulate us. This world is crazy and I don't feel comfortable in it. I don't know if I ever did. I always thought that there was this place that I would end up where things would be the way that I envisioned them. But I've yet to find that place and at the age of 43, I don't think I'll ever find it. I don't know what it will take for women to discover men again, but I figure by the time it happens, I'll be too old to care.
I don't blame them-men have been pretty awful to women throughout history. I'm watching Marle Matlin and Jennifer Beals get high and I miss it (getting high that is). When I got high every night of the week, I enjoyed losing myself and not worrying as much about things as I do when I'm sober. I haven't smoked in so long and I know that it's best for me that I don't. I can't focus when I do. I try to remember things but give up because I just don't give a fuck. But I digress-I just wish that I could find that which I'm looking for. Some enclave that understands my sufferage. Perhaps I'll die without ever finding it.
It's funny to watch the women of the L word acting just like men. It's weird. They've condemned us for behaving this way for decades, and when finally they discover autonomy, they emulate us. This world is crazy and I don't feel comfortable in it. I don't know if I ever did. I always thought that there was this place that I would end up where things would be the way that I envisioned them. But I've yet to find that place and at the age of 43, I don't think I'll ever find it. I don't know what it will take for women to discover men again, but I figure by the time it happens, I'll be too old to care.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Any N*gger Will Do (Sometimes)
I was on my way home for lunch today and I passed the parking lot in my neighborhood where the LA county sheriffs deputies hemmed me up one summer evening last year. I was on my way to the grocery store and a cruiser pulled up behind me and hit me with the lights. I was walking but it didn't really make a difference, he decided to make an event of the whole matter. It turns out that someone was robbed at the local 7-11, (those damned havens for crime), and I (you guessed it) fit the description.
The deputy told me that a black male wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans robbed someone at the local 7-11 and since I was wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans and was black, I'd do (he didn't actually say I'd do but he might as well have). I explained that I had just left my building across the street and was on my way to the grocery store. It didn't matter, I needed to be searched-to which I obliged. And after it was determined that I wasn't carrying any weapons, I was told I needed to take a seat in the back of his cruiser....for the safety of the officer. At this point my cooperation ended. I told the deputy that I wasn't getting in the back of his cruiser unless he arrested me. Until such time, I was going to excercise my right as a citizen to stand in the parking lot while he conducted his investigation. He became beligerent and asked if I wanted him to call for back up. I told him he could call whomever he wanted, I wasn't getting in the back of his cruiser-I know my rights. "You have the right to detain me without arrest, but not confine me. Putting me in the back of that cruiser where I couldn't walk away if I wanted constituted confinement and I wasn't complying UNLESS I was under arrest. Deputy dumb-ass then radioed in and in a flash a second cruiser came flying into the parking lot Starsky & Hutch style. The cruiser came to a screeching halt and out jumped a dumpy female Mexican-American deputy. She exited her vehicle, and without knowing the lay of the land, began yelling at me. I let her finish and told her "First of all deputy, you don't speak to me like that. You are a public servant, you are here to serve me. My taxpayer dollar pays your salary, so I suggest you speak to me with respect-you work for me. Deputy Dumpy got the message and didn't say anything else for the rest of the time I was being detained.
A minute or so later, a field supervisor arrived and Deputy Dumb-ass blurted out, "He tried to play the race card!" I retorted, "It was you that said black male suspect, I said nothing about color." The supervisor began to explain what I already knew-they needed to get on with their investigation and I told them that it was ok to proceed. I then asked if I could call my wife to explain to her why it was taking me so long to return home, Super-Deputy told me, "Uh, no. You might alert the other bad guys." I told him that he watched too much TV.
First of all wasn't there only one black male in blue jeans and a white t-shirt? Who were the other bad guys (go ahead and insert the word black between bad and guys). The impression I got was that all of you negroes are no good, so anyone you call has to be a part of this ridiculous caper.
Moments later another cruiser pulled up and they shined an extremely bright spotlight in my face and had me do the perp turns like I was in a line-up. It was at that moment that I realized that if this "victim" was one of those all black guys look alike types, I was in big fucking trouble. As I turned from profile, to frontal view, to profile, I felt completely powerless. Sure I had managed to remain free from the confines of the cruiser for 15 or so minutes, but this faceless person held the fate of my future in their hands.
Finally a call came over the radios in stereo, "It's not him." Super-Deputy told me that I was free to leave." Without so much as an apology or an explanation. I gathered my personal belongings that remained on the hood of the cruiser and glanced around at the crowd that had loosely assembled across the street. Their presence was bitter-sweet: had they not been there, there's no telling what the 3 Stooges might have done to me for disobeying their unlawful order. But on the other hand I felt extremely embarassed as I walked away. For a moment I wanted to cry, I was so fucking angry, but I resisted the urge and just kept reminding myself that they were just doing their job. I put myself in the place of the victim and hoped that if ever I was robbed, attacked, or assaulted, that law enforcement would be equally as zealous in their attempt to find my assailant.
I didn't know if the victim was black, white, or Mexican but what I do know is that in the area in which I reside their are very few black people. This area is predominately Hispanic and the event got me to thinking. I love The Sopranos and I used to get a little chuckle at how they used to blame every crime they did on a Moolie. Like when Jackie Jr. was murdered by Tony Soprano's crew. The word that got back to the women of the clan was that a cracked-out black guy did it. I don't laugh at that shit anymore. I fail to see the humor in any of it. Too many black males have been falsely accused, incarcerated, and worse yet, murdered for these insensitive, irresponsible, and downright evil false accusations. And at any given moment any one of us could be one. From Charles Stewart, to Susan Smith, to the white trash women that accused poor black fictional character in To Kill A Mockingbird of rape-American history is littered with this shit and, quite frankly, I don't think the justice system punishes these false accusers enough. First of all, it should be considered a racial hate crime of the highest degree and should carry a minimum sentence of 5 years with no eligibility of parole. 5 straight baby. That should discourage these accusations of convenience.
I've beat this one to death.
The deputy told me that a black male wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans robbed someone at the local 7-11 and since I was wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans and was black, I'd do (he didn't actually say I'd do but he might as well have). I explained that I had just left my building across the street and was on my way to the grocery store. It didn't matter, I needed to be searched-to which I obliged. And after it was determined that I wasn't carrying any weapons, I was told I needed to take a seat in the back of his cruiser....for the safety of the officer. At this point my cooperation ended. I told the deputy that I wasn't getting in the back of his cruiser unless he arrested me. Until such time, I was going to excercise my right as a citizen to stand in the parking lot while he conducted his investigation. He became beligerent and asked if I wanted him to call for back up. I told him he could call whomever he wanted, I wasn't getting in the back of his cruiser-I know my rights. "You have the right to detain me without arrest, but not confine me. Putting me in the back of that cruiser where I couldn't walk away if I wanted constituted confinement and I wasn't complying UNLESS I was under arrest. Deputy dumb-ass then radioed in and in a flash a second cruiser came flying into the parking lot Starsky & Hutch style. The cruiser came to a screeching halt and out jumped a dumpy female Mexican-American deputy. She exited her vehicle, and without knowing the lay of the land, began yelling at me. I let her finish and told her "First of all deputy, you don't speak to me like that. You are a public servant, you are here to serve me. My taxpayer dollar pays your salary, so I suggest you speak to me with respect-you work for me. Deputy Dumpy got the message and didn't say anything else for the rest of the time I was being detained.
A minute or so later, a field supervisor arrived and Deputy Dumb-ass blurted out, "He tried to play the race card!" I retorted, "It was you that said black male suspect, I said nothing about color." The supervisor began to explain what I already knew-they needed to get on with their investigation and I told them that it was ok to proceed. I then asked if I could call my wife to explain to her why it was taking me so long to return home, Super-Deputy told me, "Uh, no. You might alert the other bad guys." I told him that he watched too much TV.
First of all wasn't there only one black male in blue jeans and a white t-shirt? Who were the other bad guys (go ahead and insert the word black between bad and guys). The impression I got was that all of you negroes are no good, so anyone you call has to be a part of this ridiculous caper.
Moments later another cruiser pulled up and they shined an extremely bright spotlight in my face and had me do the perp turns like I was in a line-up. It was at that moment that I realized that if this "victim" was one of those all black guys look alike types, I was in big fucking trouble. As I turned from profile, to frontal view, to profile, I felt completely powerless. Sure I had managed to remain free from the confines of the cruiser for 15 or so minutes, but this faceless person held the fate of my future in their hands.
Finally a call came over the radios in stereo, "It's not him." Super-Deputy told me that I was free to leave." Without so much as an apology or an explanation. I gathered my personal belongings that remained on the hood of the cruiser and glanced around at the crowd that had loosely assembled across the street. Their presence was bitter-sweet: had they not been there, there's no telling what the 3 Stooges might have done to me for disobeying their unlawful order. But on the other hand I felt extremely embarassed as I walked away. For a moment I wanted to cry, I was so fucking angry, but I resisted the urge and just kept reminding myself that they were just doing their job. I put myself in the place of the victim and hoped that if ever I was robbed, attacked, or assaulted, that law enforcement would be equally as zealous in their attempt to find my assailant.
I didn't know if the victim was black, white, or Mexican but what I do know is that in the area in which I reside their are very few black people. This area is predominately Hispanic and the event got me to thinking. I love The Sopranos and I used to get a little chuckle at how they used to blame every crime they did on a Moolie. Like when Jackie Jr. was murdered by Tony Soprano's crew. The word that got back to the women of the clan was that a cracked-out black guy did it. I don't laugh at that shit anymore. I fail to see the humor in any of it. Too many black males have been falsely accused, incarcerated, and worse yet, murdered for these insensitive, irresponsible, and downright evil false accusations. And at any given moment any one of us could be one. From Charles Stewart, to Susan Smith, to the white trash women that accused poor black fictional character in To Kill A Mockingbird of rape-American history is littered with this shit and, quite frankly, I don't think the justice system punishes these false accusers enough. First of all, it should be considered a racial hate crime of the highest degree and should carry a minimum sentence of 5 years with no eligibility of parole. 5 straight baby. That should discourage these accusations of convenience.
I've beat this one to death.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Yesterday, I Said Goodbye
Sometimes it takes certain situations to wake you to what has been occurring in your life without your knowledge and yesterday I had one such situation. I spend every Sunday with my youngest daughter at her mom's house. From time to time the three of us will do something together-mainly for my daughter. Last Sunday we went to see a movie together and I have to admit that I really enjoyed all of us being together. When I called her yesterday to thank her for the movie, she made a comment that disturbed me. She told me, out of the blue, that she wasn't messing with me while I'm still married. First of all I didn't think that I was attempting to have her mess with me, but let's say that I was. She just recently ended a relationship with a man that was obviously married. Not only did this man spend many of nights with her (in front of my child), he practically embarassed the hell out of her oldest daughter when his oldest daughter found out about the affair. Former high school classmates of her oldest daughter often saw the man at my ex's house, put two and two together and rumors began to fly. It was a source of embarassment for her daughter.
Now I don't knock anyone for having morals but at least be consistent. I learned yesterday that this woman is selfish now, and will always be selfish and that I really have to say goodbye to this person. That is not to say that we can't be cordial and talk, because we are the parents of a very beautiful child. But she is clearly mental and I am glad that I recognized this. I'll admit that the thought of us raising our daughter together has been in the back of my mind. I want nothing more than to see my daughter happy, but this woman is so selfish, I don't think I would ever trust her. After years of sacrifice with her-helping her raise her two daughters while her ex-husband was incarcerated (and he has thanked me on numerous occasions. He wasn't in prison because he was a bad person, he was in prison because he was raised by an awful mother, and she never gave her son the guidance necessary for him to become a productive member of society. He is doing much better now).
I reflected on all of her past and present decisions and I can see how every decision she has made is to benefit her own agenda-and she doesn't care who she hurts in the process. And for her to give me some sort of unsolicited ultimatum, I truly have to keep my distance. I can no longer spend numerous hours at her house visiting my daughter. I don't think it's wise that we all do things together. I'll have to now carefully plan my Sundays so that the day is filled with enough activities to allow us to spend time together without my being at her residence. It's sad, but I had to say goodbye to an old dream that I can no longer afford to keep alive.
RCP
Now I don't knock anyone for having morals but at least be consistent. I learned yesterday that this woman is selfish now, and will always be selfish and that I really have to say goodbye to this person. That is not to say that we can't be cordial and talk, because we are the parents of a very beautiful child. But she is clearly mental and I am glad that I recognized this. I'll admit that the thought of us raising our daughter together has been in the back of my mind. I want nothing more than to see my daughter happy, but this woman is so selfish, I don't think I would ever trust her. After years of sacrifice with her-helping her raise her two daughters while her ex-husband was incarcerated (and he has thanked me on numerous occasions. He wasn't in prison because he was a bad person, he was in prison because he was raised by an awful mother, and she never gave her son the guidance necessary for him to become a productive member of society. He is doing much better now).
I reflected on all of her past and present decisions and I can see how every decision she has made is to benefit her own agenda-and she doesn't care who she hurts in the process. And for her to give me some sort of unsolicited ultimatum, I truly have to keep my distance. I can no longer spend numerous hours at her house visiting my daughter. I don't think it's wise that we all do things together. I'll have to now carefully plan my Sundays so that the day is filled with enough activities to allow us to spend time together without my being at her residence. It's sad, but I had to say goodbye to an old dream that I can no longer afford to keep alive.
RCP
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