Nerd post? Nerd post!

So, anyone who knows me knows I play a lot of Video Games. My last video game writeup on Modern Warfare 2 was pretty popular, which I'm pretty thankful for. During a discussion I had with a few friends, though, a little notion was thrown around. A few of my friends made the claim that Modern Warfare 2 was the most important game to come out in the past 4 years because of the No Russian mission and what it did for Video Games as a visual artform. Although I do credit Modern Warfare 2 for doing great things through a very uncomfortable moment, I think I have to look at different game that didn't get a lot of steam but is opening floodgates through it's cult following and ambitious premises.

Atlus's Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 4 came out in 2008 and is considered by many to be the last great PS2 game. Following Persona 3, which was controversial for requiring the main characters to shoot themselves in the head to summon monsters that fight for them, Persona 3 lightens the shock value but keeps the engaging turn-base RPG game play. It also boasts a very compelling story with a lot of twists and turns and a beastly soundtrack.

For the record, the uniform jacket they all have is SO fly. I wouldn't mind coppin one if it, y'know, wouldn't get me lynched for over-nerddom.

What sets this game apart and makes it so important to me isn't inside of it's base mechanics, it's some of the decisions that the writers and localizers made.

1) Keeping Japanese culture interwoven throughout the game instead of "Americanizing" it.
One of the first things you'll notice in the dialog is the honorifics attached to everyone's names. Every character has a "-senpai," "-kun," "-chan," etc. attached to their names which will be very unfamiliar to American players. Also, all health products, spell names, and cuisine retain their Japanese identities. What feels like another world to the player is actually normal life (besides monsters and gruesome murders) for the Japanese, which is long over due in American gaming.

American Gaming suffers from cultural imperialism. It likes to impose American culture onto Japanese games. To market it better to American audiences, most localizers will strip all things Japanese since most American gamers will claim they feel alienated from the game. Atlus refuses to do so in Persona 4, opting to immerse the gamer into Japanese culture and have them learn about it as well as complete a well crafted game. Not only does the gamer get the opportunity to learn abut Japanese school, home, dating, and holiday customs, they learn that in many aspects, life for the Japanese and the American are extremely similar. Even the game play retains it's original Japanese flavor by not nixing the date sim elements that make up about 50-60 percent of the game. Half the game is traditional turn-based RPG, the other half is based on building friendships with your classmates, family, and (if you chose to) significant others. Date sims are just not done in America, so including these Date Sim elements in such significant portions was a huge risk that, by critical standards, paid off.

2) Kanji Tatsumi and Naota Shirogane
Yes, I listed two characters. How can two characters be listed?
Sexuality isn't explored in video games, for real. You may have a stereotypically gay character in a game, but most stories tend to stick with a heterosexual cast. One of the reasons for this is for an ESRB rating. Homosexuality is the quickest way to get a M or a AO rating, which will completely limit (or diminish) sales. Why homosexuality automatically garners a M or an AO rating is beyond me (*cough*HOMOPHOBIA*cough*), but to have a gay character in a game and explore their sexuality is not done.

Kanji is a male who has stuggeled with his gender and sexual orientation since he was a little kid and, even after his own personal resolution and the friends he gains, he continues to question his sexual identity and his feelings for Naoto. Naoto, a female who id entifies as a boy, opens up another can of worms in relation to Kanji and as one of the only non-stereotypical depictions of a Transgerered Male in video games. Their relationship with each other, their friends and the main character open up a lot of veins for discussion on sexuality that video games never touch upon. It is also, easily, the most provocative thing in the game. It begs the question: What is the ESRB really screening for? Why can such beneficial and useful dialog be restricted to "M" or "AO" rated games? Why is it okay to brandish swords and guns in Teen rated games but the moment that homosexuality and transgendered identity is discussed it's too hot for regular store shelves? Not only does Persona 4 bring a video game spotlight on sexual identity and politics, but it puts the spotlight on the discriminatory practices of the ESRB.
(We, as conscious gamers, *snicker* should probably be a little more outraged at the ESRB for this and call on their redefinition of their rating system, but that's a blog post for another day)

Persona 4 is an amazing game, one that was a perfect capstone for the Playstation 2 gaming console. It's not just because it's an RPG that gives SquareEnix games (FFXII, where where you at?) a run for their money, but because it retains it's true identity even through translation and breaks barriers with ambitious characters and situations. In my eyes, it's easily the most important game in the past few years and any game that steps up and makes the next few steps in the movement for Video Game legitimacy will have Atlus and Persona 4 to thank.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

100/100

So, I'll preface this by saying that I had an exceptionally piss-poor day. Well, technically, it was yesterday, so there's no reason to fret anymore.


I got into a nice argument with a few of my students today. I asked them if it would be okay for them to be interviewed by a fellow student for a research project of theirs. What started a simple refusal immediately escalated into an interrogation of who I am as a person. I thought I'd address that here to bring myself some kind of peace of mind.

The question to me was : Am I a WashU nigga or a St. Louis nigga?

This is not an easy question to answer properly. Was I born and raised in St. Louis? Yes. Do I carry many qualities of the culture with me? Yes. Have I rejected certain aspects such as the accent? Yes. Do I attend WashU? Yes. Have I gone through the unique struggle that higher education brings? Yes. Have I rejected certain aspects of the WashU community? Yes

So the simple answer is "both," but it made me think.

One of my past students asked me about the St. Louis poem I wrote and performed at CUPSI. In it, there's the now-infamous "nigga" section. He asked how why there's such a fierce contrast between the celebration of St. Louis culture (both good and bad) and the indictment of the "other" that occurs in the second half. What I'm realizing is that is a direct reflection of many of the experiences that have at WashU where these two parts of myself are forced into direct conflict.

WashU fosters a fear of the St. Louis nigga. Its apparent in the safety precautions they feed to freshmen during orientation. It's evident in the e-mails they send about crime notices and the way that WUPD reacts towards the black population on campus. The only St. Louis nigga that most students HAVE to come in contact are the workers on campus. To add to that fostering of fear, WashU places limitations on how the workers can interact with students, even when they're off. For example, the open mics on campus are open to ANYONE who wants to spit, but we have been cited for allowing the workers to spit because "it creates an uncomfortable situation for students." Lord knows how uncomfortable it is to know that dude who gives you your food may have a shared interest.

I guess in a way to combat this as well as make themselves feel better, a lot of students reduce the St. Louis nigga to a charity case. This allows them to not seem like they're racist or classist while still exerting their dominance over the St. Louis nigga in a nicer way. (Even the wording we use to describe how we interact with the St. Louis community places us in a higher plane than the enigmatic St. Louis Nigga. More on that some other time.)

I've seen WashU as an institution do terrible things to my community. I've seen WashU students turn the St. Louis nigga into a joke, an animal, a lesser-being and justify it by using every Olin-library supported source they could find. I've seen people go into the neighborhoods of the people that disgust them and act like they have no right to call that place home.

I gained a loot of opportunities by coming to WashU. I met a lot of great people. I've had a lot of fun. I can't discount it, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that there was a huge part of me that hates WashU, and hates that I can be called a WashU nigga at the same time as a St. Louis Nigga.

At the end of the day, I'm going to graduate from WashU. I'll die in St. Louis. That's the way it'll be. Although WashU has done incredible things for me, my city has still done more and I won't let that be lessened by a school.


Saturday, May 29, 2010

You're Not Dr. Phil

So, as we all know, people tend to give me relationship advice all the time...even when I don't want nor ask for it. It's like an unwritten rule: Let's try and teach Gerald how to have a successful relationship even when he's persistent on being single. A lot of this comes from the "Relationship Hubris," a condition I'm still organizing for your reading pleasures, lol.


Anyway, with all these different avenues for advice, I've learned that some people need to learn how to keep their advice to themselves. All pieces of advice I list are completely true. Nothing was made up to make a point. The other issue is that I don't know if some of these work or not.


Gerald, you need to treat the girl like she's not wanted so she'll want you.
...oro?
That's how I treat complete strangers. So, let me get this straight, if I treat a woman like I don't want her, she'll want me...okay...I can accept that. But what if I genuinely don't want that woman? Will she still want me? So every woman I don't want wants me?
And why would any woman want to be with someone who doesn't want them? That doesn't make any sense. That's like me hiring someone I know is going to quit in 2 weeks. That's a terrible investment.

Just be yourself
Thank you, Disney Channel. Even the dude from the Prince and the Frog had to become a frog before he got the right one. Not really himself. Just sayin.

Don't do it, just avoid relationships at all costs
Thank you, Mr. Jaded. That's probably the most self-defeating relationship advice I've heard

So, if you treat them like shit AND THEN love them, they love it and feel like they changed you.
1) This came from a girl...threw me clean off
2) This mess works. Like, I've seen this form of game pulled off by some swagless negroes and it has a very high success rate. Hell, I did it for awhile with ASTONISHING results. I guess this is more of a condemnation of its effectiveness than a criticism of the advice. Can't knock the hustle.

Just smile and nod, let them do all the talking.
If that's a condition for a relationship with someone, I don't want that someone. If you're wrong, you're wrong. If you talk all the time, I'll eventually get tired of listening.

There's plenty more, but Its saturday and I have stuff to do. What's some dumbass advice you've been given?

So, I tried to switch to tumblr mainly because it's easier to post there...and quickly learned that I just hate tumblr. It's just kind of lame. I had to install a program to allow comments. Get flippin real.


So, 4thursday will remain my home, but the mindset of the Shy Microphone will remain. I'm still here for y'all, just on a medium that I can actually enjoy.

A few preliminary notes for this not-so-triumphant return. Let me make a few things as clear as possible. If you misconstrue these things, you'll simply be ignored.
  1. All poetry on this site is the property of Gerald M. Jackson. If it appears anywhere besides on his own personal FB page, it is plagiarism. I out a lot of time and energy into my craft. I take it seriously. Even if the piece comes out like crap, I love it to death. Do NOT try to get away with taking my works for your own glory.
  2. Opinion posts are just that, opinions.
  3. Every once-in-awhile, I put a post up that is clearly satirical. This is not a blog like Very Smart Brothas. My satirical posts aren't meant to have some deeper meaning. They're just satire. You won't uncover some deep, mythical secret about the way Gerald operates or thinks or the situations he's entangled in. You will not find the secret to life. It's satire. Do not try to be a psychologist with me, you're probably (are) wrong.
  4. I love feedback on poetry. Don't be afraid to dish it. Do NOT be all anal about the spelling and grammar here. A lot of this is written on my phone or on a wireless keyboard that has a tendency to skip letters and punctuation. Besides, this is all informal. Let's not be trolls, mkay
  5. Drama is for twitter. Don't bring that mess here. No name dropping, please.
With that said, it's great to be back!

Monday, March 22, 2010

In St. Louis

I (My City is a Science)

The Arch's elevator follows the rules of gravity

It rises at it's maximum speed,

Slowing down as it reaches the top,

Stops

Looks around,

Descends,

And reaches the ground at the same speed

Until it hits the brakes.


II (My City is a Burden)

She wrote my tombstone at age 15,

Said that I would be buried on top of her

She said that I was more than a child to her,

That I would be able to protect her

To defend her,

I want to love her,

But the bullies at school have those "momma" jokes

And sometimes, they're right,

And sometimes, I feel my eye twitch

And I know this isn't the way it's supposed to be


III (My City is a Protector)

My city cries water,

My city cries leaves,

My city cries liquor,

My city cries weed,

My city cries blood

My city cries needs

My city cries contacts

My city cries weave

My city cries anger

My city cries breeze

My city cries murder

My city cries pleads

My city cries drug deals,

My city cries fees

My city cries rivers

My city dried me


IV (My City is a Trending Topic)

#FoolsInSTL holla at women like car alarms

#FoolsInSTL make metro rides a hassle

#FoolsinSTL wear forces with cargos

#FoolsInSTL never know when to stay away

#FoolsInSTL eat Chinese food made by black men

#FoolsInSTL have no business on our campus

#FoolsInSTL play jazz like prayers

#FoolsInSTL sing jazz like hymnals

#FoolsInSTL think they're real

#FoolsinSTL will hurt me if I look at them weird

RT @SuchAndSuch #FoolsInSTL have no business on our campus (<--COSIGN! LOLZ)


V (My City is a Zoo)

Years ago,

A popular dare at Washington University

Was to travel into the hoods of St. Louis

To see how far you could get

Without getting hurt.

It's like putting your hand into the tiger's cage,

Draped in scholarships and entitlement,

Which probably tastes like ribs

And waving at the tiger

Who's too afraid

To be put to sleep

For biting the hand

that taunts it.


Maybe I should be that tiger,

Grab you by the fingers

And slam you against the bars,

Let you remember how tigers are in the wild,

Let my fur run against your shaking arms

Snarl the same way lions do,

And let them stick a needle in my neck

Let me close my eyes

And know that the last thing I tasted

Was this.


VI (My City is a Bullet)

When a gun is fired into the air,

It begins traveling at it's highest speed,

Decreasing as it gets higher

Stopping in mid air.

It looks around,

Admires the view,

And falls

At the same speed it rose,

Until it lands

Somewhere.


VII (My City is a Nigga)

I am a St. Louis nigga,

I am Cardinal red nigga

I am pigs feet kind of nigga,

I am riverfront times kind of nigga,

I am imos pizza nigga

I am Mizzou fan nigga

I am twisties and beer type nigga

I am bullet-hole kiss dreads type nigga

I am tax-refund type-nigga

I am "stompin in my Air Force Ones" nigga,

I am not Nelly, nigga,

When's the last time you've seen St. Louis nigga

Say you live here, nigga,

Say this city neglects you, nigga,

Say it doesn't protect you, nigga,

Say you don't need it, nigga,

Say it doesn't need you, nigga,

Say it doesn't affect you nigga

Nigga

I am St. Louis, nigga


VIII (My City is a City)

A friend of mine said

the Delmar Loop

would be so much better

if WashU just bought it out.

A friend of mine tried

to make frustrations with 3

people in the city

global.

A friend of mine said

these people

aren't worthy of having

children

A friend of mine said

they wonder

why life will never

get better for them

A friend of mine said

the universities

are all that matters

in this city

A friend of mine said

the people in St. Louis

are best used for

community Service

because it looks good

on her resume

A friend of mine said

these are the nation's

unwanted pregnancies

A friend of mine said

this city

doesn't exist

And I wish I could tell them

to stop it.


IX (My City is Not a Child)

Washington University

Remember

That you are still

In St. Louis


X(My City is a Mother)

She decorated my tomb at 21,

She asks if I will be ready to come home

And I smile

At this lady who raised me

To be as proud as her arch-shaped smile

And river-shaped fingers

That hold this country in her grip


XI (My City is Me)

I rose at the speed my mother launched me

Stopped at the top

Am admiring the view

Knowing that eventually

I'll fall

At the same speed I was launched

And will land

Back home.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Where My Short People At?

In sperm banks across America, thousands upon thousands of men are turned away daily because of several "defects." You can be turned away because of a low sperm count, a sign of infertility. You can be turned away because of physical disabilities or for being deformed. You can be turned away for having a mental disability. And, you can be turned away for being too short.


And by too short, I don't mean 4'5" or something. The acceptable height for a sperm donor is 5'8" or above. If you have any one of the defects listed, you are considered "Undesirable"

Funny thing about the process: They give a personality test. Sometimes, the person who controls the test is instructed to reject people who have an undesirable personality...but they tend to accept people with piss-poor personalities because their physical desirability is so high.

Guess what, my 5'7" and below brothas! You're defective! You're natural genetic code has been deemed a deformity, and through practices like this, it's being handled. Be proud, you've become an undesired minority in a world of skyscraper males and the females who are taught to look up instead of right in front of them!

What I find funny is that personality comes so far after looks in a time when political correctness is supposed to make us think that the opposite is true. (I guess the funniest thing is that height is considered harmful to one's looks.) In the end, though, it makes sense. People will always say what's politically correct as long as they can still act as honest to their hearts (read: libidos) as possible.

Well, I'm here to represent for my short folk, who are persecuted everyday. Whether its the realm of relationships or the realm of business (which aren't very separate worlds, I'll have you know), we short people are tired of being treated like creatures to be tossed aside for your own selfish gains. We will not become an afterthought in your eugenic genocide of our people! Short people, get on a chair and STAND UP!

As a short person:

1) I demand shirts that fit my size without falling to my knees!
2) I demand the same level of respect and possible upward mobility as my taller counterparts in the workplace.
3) I am tired of hearing the political correct jargon of acceptance and willingness from lying women who refuse to acknowledge my identity as a man, instead acknowledging me as a kid.
4) I am tired of my good leadership abilities being attributed to a Napoleon complex.
5) You will NOT use me as an armrest unless I am allowed to thunderpunch you in the genitalia.
6) I am tired of people thinking that because you can literally look down on me, you can figuratively look down on me.
7) I refuse to be called little brother when I'm fucking older than you.
8) I am just as capable at any act as someone who is a few inches taller than me.
9) I demand a reevaluation of worth based on aesthetics. Just because I'm half your size doesn't mean that my worth is half yours.
10) I demand acknowledgement that, as a short person, I am treated different by a society that prizes height. This is especially apparent in the black community, with a higher average height. I am rightfully disappointed in a race that has been socially marginalized since being in this country for taking part in the marginalization of people who fall just short of the national average height.

I hold this truth to be self-evident: All people are created equal. It's just sad that I have to stand on a stage for you all to notice it.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

A Game of Wolves (Draft 1)

When hunting wolves,

hold the rifle steady,
butt against your shoulder,
breathe slowly, downward
so the wolf doesn't see
your breath,
Be part of the environment
never chase the wolf,
tempt the wolf,
don't get too close,
distance is key.

I hadn't seen her in years,
but I remembered her teeth,
straight, white, with sharp
incisors that left bite marks
on my shoulder,
when we were children,
we were always either
hunters or wolves.
She always won.
Always,
knew to either fire first
or be chased.

A cornered wolf
is more dangerous
than a rifle.

I saw her in shnucks,
ironically,
she smiled in my direction
intentionally,
tempting,
she always knew to never chase,
always knew to keep her hands
where I could see them
I'm not saying I didn't trust her,
but I didn't trust her,
like
most women,
like
most hunters,
she knew to never chase
and always tempt

"I remember when you used
to chase me,
it was cute"
"Was it?"
"Like a baby chasing bubbles,
or tag,
you were never very good at tag,
though"
and we both laugh,
eyes locked on each other,
Never let the target out of your sight
"Well, I remember when you
weren't able to see me.
I was a good hunter,"
"You were just good at hiding."
"That's what a good hunter does,
that's why you always made me
play the wolf.
You never learned how to lose."
"What happened to us."

and I should have told her:
You never learned how to lose,
that rifles and bite marks
are not mutually exclusive
and that, maybe,
I was too good at giving
and never knew how to take
very well.
I was comfortable
being a wolf,
because sometimes,
it's nice not to see it coming

Make sure the wolf does not
see it coming

and she says
"I remember when you
used to love."
"When was that?"
"Between the tempting
and the shot,
when I could see you
in my scopes,
you were always loving
harder than the bullet."
"And how did you love?"
"Huh?"
"How did you love?"
Never chase,
tempt
"I don't know"
"You were always good
at knowing when to fire,
knowing to tell when the wolf
is completely in love
and striking
either between the eyes
or in the chest cavity,
you made sure
that you didn't leave
the target alive."
"What are you trying to say?"
"That, maybe,
you were a better huntress,
and I was too good at loving.
I'm not able to dodge bullets
but I can tell
when I'm being tempted,
and you are a little to good
at hiding, sometimes."
"You were good at hiding, too,"
"Maybe.
Maybe I exist somewhere between
wolf and hunter
between giver and taker
but I've always been a better giver,
and maybe
you were better at receiving,
and maybe I should have bitten you
when I had the chance,
to make sure that you
were never able to take from me again."
And she nods
and I know
that we will probably
never speak to each other again
and that she will tell her friends
that she killed another wolf
and I might
have to agree with her.

No matter how much you prepare
eventually, you will chase the wolf,
and a cornered wolf
is more dangerous than a rifle.
When stuck in this situation,
remember,
that the one who walks out alive
is the one who
willing to fire first.

I had a really long, angry post...but I'll abstain from posting it. I'm having a good night and I don't wish to vent about it now.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

They're Not All Bad (At Least For Me)

So, I was looking at 4thursday today, just going through posts and ish....realized something. If someone wanted to, they could easily make the case that I don't uplift black women enough.


You're right, I don't. Black bastards. White Girls, 2010!

Enough of the joking. Contrary to popular belief, when ya'll ain't making my life a living hell, you're making my life heaven. I came from a black woman, love black women and will always love black women. I love them off all shapes and sizes, of all locations and upbringing, and of all ideas and beliefs. Ya'll mean the world to me, which is why you must be subjected to criticism, the same way you all criticized me and helped mold me into the person I am today.

So, today, I'm taking a break from crazy heifers, dumb heifers, lost heifers and the non-existent slut to talk about the beautiful black women in my life that have had the greatest impact on me.

(Not done in any specific order)

1) Jeana
So, apparently, she didn't like me when we first met. Funny, eh? How do you not like lil-ol' AD? Anyway, we became pretty cool in 11th grade and it's been history ever since. From withstanding my hilarious interrogations to offering up really good anecdotes for day-to-day situations, Jeana is one of the women that prove that good things of the XX pair can come out of Hazelwood Central. Although we have debacles over height, I respect her an equal scholastically, as an apt friend and as family. And, as of late, she definitely can roll with the punches when it comes to jokes. She don't take it sitting down anymore...although when she sits down, we're technically seeing eye-to-eye.

2) Mychal
I don't exactly know when and where this friendship formed, but it did. She dated one of my boys, which probably kept our deep, unbridled passion for each other from ever truly being realized. In all seriousness, Mychal reminds me that any stereotype about Black women being too this or too that is completely untrue. She may be a coon at heart, but she's a great one, worthy of the greatest respect and love I can give. (Hell, she's the only one to tell me that I have to wear a tux and chucks to a wedding and I NOT balk at her. lol)

3) Brittany
One of my black tags at Six Flags, Brittany did more for me than she may realized. At first, we were purely co-workers, but quickly, we opened up to each other and I was able to learn more about the adult side of black women, about expectation over entitlement and how to treat women in general as people, not something to be placed on a pedestal. She always gave me great advice and was one of the few who didn't judge my relationship with a certain melanin-deprived leech.

4) Audrey
Audrey is Audrey, through and through. Never met anyone like her. Highly affectionate, blunt and talented. Whether it was in a studio or in a classroom (with me probably surfing the net or dozing off), I could always rely on at least a smile. I don't know if you know, but a smile on a dark day can mean the sun. Yea, we have disagreements on gender roles in the black community. I'm usually right. She can't help it. At the end of the day, she's one of the people who has made my WashU experience exponentially better and has reminded me not to write all you Black bastards off.

5) Naia
On some realness, Naia is the only chick that can go blow-for-blow with my ignorance. Another one of my WashU sisters, she can easily beat you down in life, poetry, rap or jokes. She's one of the few who I can rap with about a lot of things ranging from the little quirks to the "OMG, I think i just fucked up my life" things. She's also the only one who will randomly give you a Domo-Kun. C'mon now, that's gangsta. We got through WU-SLam last year as a team and are getting through this year as family.

6) Mom
No matter how rocky our relationship was growing up, I never lost love for my mom. She is a lady me with more patience and experience. When I was acting up, she set me straight. When I needed some encouragement, she gave it. If I need anything, she'll bend over backwards to get it. My biggest fear in life is not being able to live up to be the man my parents raised me up to be, someone my mom can look back on with her girls in the hair salon and say "My boy did well." She's the woman I'll do anything for and who will do anything for me. I may not always know how to show it, but I love her for that.

There are a lot of women I can't write on this list because...well...that will be a blog in itself. These women have had profound impacts on me, helping to create the genuinely messed up but amazingly perfect me you all love, hate and adore. I love them more all then my pens and computer screens will allow me to type.

To the fellas: It's easy to bash ladies and ish, but sit down and make a list like this sometimes. I know black women can get on our nerves, but also remember that there are more to love. Remember: these women push us to be great, demand us to do the same for them and love us unconditionally.

Note: All women aren't inherently insane. (I don't think so...)


So, as I sit in Whispers and see a beautiful black woman that reminds me of missed opportunities, i reflect upon the women I have interacted with in the past. Anyone who has seen my Tweets today may see that I ran into a former fling that was pretty evil...like, on some, "let me tell this other girl who threatens me shit that could make her want to kill herself" evil. I actually call her Dr. Evil...or the Indian Mini-Me...she's about the same size.

So, I started thinking about the last few women I've messed with and have broken them down into Archetypes of Crazy Individuals I've encountered and been strangely attracted to.

1) The Body

Okay, let's be real...all the psycho-crapulent-bibble-babble of political correctness and such won't stop me from saying that I love a woman's body. Breast are second to none except the almighty ass. I know, I probably killed someone's self-esteem and for that I'm (Almost) sorry. But back to the substance, The Body will make you do some crazy things. They can have NO personality, but The Body will make you think that her body is worth all the trouble that comes with her. Then you finally talk to her and realize that the teapot your boiled water in had more substance than her. (A lot of bodies have a face like the Mule...remember, always look up before embracing The Body)

2) Ms. Philosophy

Ever met that lady that makes you feel...challenged? (That really means you met that lady that makes you feel dumb but you say challenged because you want to feel better about yourself.)
So, they have substance...not much else, but you don't care because dating her makes it look like you're not shallow. Ms. Philosophy knows Kant, Rawls, and Mills and will hit you with every bit of Tyler Perry/ Rev Run Wisdom she can to make you feel like you're not doing enough in life...daily. Oh, the last few Ms. Philosophys I've dated (or...actually...said "hi" to) have all tried to stalk me in some way. Whether it's documenting all my actions to turn it into some form of "sweet" poetry that is randomly found in my inbox to locking me in a room and yelling at me until their face turns blurple, i've seen it all.

3) Mrs. I-Pray-Right
...I'll keep this one brief: No fun, no conversation, no sex. Religion is great. I am a devout Christian...but c'mon, there's a lot to talk about in this world.

So, I started looking over this and realized something. These types of women that have come into my life are nuts. They all lead to stressful relationships and stories that, albeit are funny in your guy groups, always leave a bitter taste in your mouth. We all have that group that we just think is inherently crazy and can cause us a lot of problems because we've run into crazies before.

But another issue I'm presented with is why do I find these types of women attractive? Why is it that I can settle on a particular aspect and be okay with a maximization of that aspect while neglecting the rest? I think that we have this idea implanted into our head that we're not going to find the best because, well, it isn't out there. We need to take what we can and keep it moving. If we don't, we're single. (And we all know that if we're single, we're not happy. Ask your friends. Especially your coupled up friends. They'll all say "Enjoy being single" while looking around nervously...they don't buy that shit as much as you do.)

Why are we so pressed to be coupled up that we'll settle for these monstrosities who's sole purpose is to tear our hearts and our minds from their homes and place them in their teeth? Is being in a relationship worth all that? I dunno, bro, I dunno.

Hey all!


So, I've been sick all weekend, fighting the mysterious bug, and dealing with limited contact with humans. It's rough for such a social creature as myself [/sarcasm]

Had a...daunting meeting with someone friday afternoon which I may post details about later. Whew.

So, you're looking at the title and wondering "Yo, Wonderful-splendiferous-stupendous-masterful AD (because you always think this when thinking of me), why do you love anonymous postings so much." Well, my friends, I'll explain it to you.

A few years back, Honesty Box popped off. It gave people the opportunity to be completely honest with someone who had the app on their facebook page. (It was offered on MySpace, but by that time, MySpace had taken its place in the corner where it belonged while it's many lame users filtered their way into facebook with their bathroom profile pics and their angle shots and whack usernames like "Sexxxikittykatmeowbark") A lot of people took advantage of the opportunity, especially when someone like me put one on his page.

I got the usual: "You're cute" "You're shot" "You're loud" "No one knows the real you" "You're a wonderful friend" "I've had a crush on you for awhile but am too afraid..." "Banana-Cream-Pie!" etc. Nothing special, nothing worth changing my life over. Then I realized something about these programs, which extend to the currently popular FormSpring.

Imagine, you're holding something in. You've always wanted to say it, but you've been told by society that it's wrong to be confrontational. You've been told to be as indirect as possible and that people won't like you if you're upfront. You're held by gender roles and by social stigmas that prevent you from really being who you want to be. You see a box that promises to release these demons you bear to finally be cast out and given to the person who invokes such a powerful emotion within you. You type out your demons and send it and you instantly feel better.

Yeah, it's some whack shit. Honestly.

But whackness is what whackness does. These whack individuals need an outlet as well. These feelings could fester within them, but now they can let it out in the most whack way they know how. And that's okay. Who am I to deprive you of that.

So go ahead, my enemies, my haters, my nay-sayers, my crushes, my exes, my almost-friends, my impersonators, my could-have-beens, my Judas's, send me your comments. Allow these demons resting on your chests to be let free.

I'll simply smile, answer the question and return to living, the same thing I would do if you swallowed your whack, held your demons in your hands, and approached me in Whispers.

Let me preface this by saying that I don't know shit about visual art, but I like putting it in titles.


That being said:

Today, I finished the campaign mode in Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2. I was completely impressed with the gameplay, the score, the sound effects and the first-person cinematics. At times, I actually felt like the action hero in the SEALS or the Army Ranger who is defending D.C. from invaders. It has quickly become one of my favorite shooters.

When I started the game, I was told that there would be some disturbing moments and that I could skip them if I wanted to. I nodded and brushed it off. Nothing surprises me in games anymore. I've seen nukes get detonated in Call of Duty 4 and Metal Gear Solid 3, I've seen monsters savagely rape other monsters in Silent Hill 2, I've seen a family get slaughtered in Max Payne. Like I said, nothing surprises me, so I launched forward into the game expecting to be impressed.

-Spoiler alert-

A soldier you watched develop is put in Russia undercover. His name changes from Joseph to Alexi. . He's standing in an elevator in an airport with a group of armed men, and their leaders says "Remember, No Russian." The elevator opens, the men line up around a metal detector holding their guns in firing position. There's a sea of civilians in for the metal detector. One of your cohorts fires prematurely, and your line opens fire on the innocent people. Your group kills every living thing in the airport terminal, nothing is allowed to live and remember your face. Blood splatters on the walls and the floor and the air as bullets strike the panicking civilians who try fruitlessly to run away. Some security guards try to stop you, but compared to the rifles your group wields, their handguns are nothing. Your cohorts stop by people who are wounded, crawling for a place to hide and execute them in cold blood. Once there is no movement in the airport terminal, your group runs outside to escape, killing as many riot police with grenades as you can, possibly taking down a plane if you choose to take that route. You reach the escape vehicle, are shot by the leader who knew all along you were American, and left for dead so the world can blame your nation for the incident.

This scene has caused a firestorm of reactions. It has been talked about, banned from certain nations, edited in others and protested in most. It was chilling enough to be brought before the United Kingdom's House of Commons. It's easily the biggest maelstrom of reactions to a video game moment since GTA3.

And I'm torn.

Like I said, I'm usually never surprised, but the depiction of this terrorist act rocked me. The complete ruthlessness of it, the fact that you were firing on innocent civilians, the fact that someone thought to put this as an interactive moment of the game really made me uncomfortable. It seemed like no choice was the right one. If you don't fire, then you're watching your cohorts mercilessly murder about 100-150 innocent people as they scream and run from the bullets. If you fire on your cohorts, you blow your cover and sacrifice millions of lives to the ensuing war. If you fire on the civilians, then what does that say about you? It's a real damned if you do, damned if you don't situation.

It's really disturbing, but it also does something for the medium that I think people are unwilling to accept just yet. People hear the term "Video Gaming" and think "children." They don't see gaming in the same light as movies, where anything goes, and it may be because games started really tame. Y'know, pong, et (*shudder*), tetris, stuff like that. Now, Video Games are becoming more epic, more cinematic, more gritty, and attempting to break free of the children association. It's trying to claim the same legitimacy that movies have, where they can do some outlandish things and no one second guesses it.

The scene, which is tough to get through if you're in the general vicinity of a decent person, fully encapsulates the the horrors of war. Think about it, you're undercover for your nation to protect it. You have a choice between blowing that cover and causing the deaths of your compatriots or killing innocent civilians and possibly protecting millions more. What do you do? The game deals with complex issues and moral decisions that soldiers face on the regular in a way that no movie could ever do. It makes you uncomfortable, it makes you evaluate the ethics of war and it makes you more invested in the rest of the story.

Why can't a medium that is able to do this be considered a legitimate medium like movies or visual art? Is it because the word "game" is in the title?

Games like Metal Gear, GoldenEye, Uncharted and Call of Duty have pushed the boundaries of gaming, crossing into the realm of interactive movies and it seems that more games are heading in that direction. As they become more cinematic and art driven, the things done in them will be more and more controversial, especially if we keep viewing them in this childish light. Video Games are growing up. Maybe instead of being angry and banning them, its time to take a step up and let them grow strong.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

People I Hate in Class

Do i really need to preface this? I'm taking a Sex, Cyborgs, and Society class and one of the things that really irks me is that there are people in there who embody every annoying quality possible. So, why not go through the list...mkay?


1) The "Yes-Man"

You know those people that you can bet money on never being able to find a mate because they have no spine? In class, they are worse. Rocking a goofy smile and confused eyes, anytime the teacher or another student questions their position, they simply agree with a bass-heavy "Uh, yeah." They tend to have high grades, though, so I guess i'm hating. They also will say shit that makes no sense as to not come across as a "Yes-Man." Anytime they speak, I just shake my head while saying under my breath "I still get more than you..."

2) The Enlightened Ho
I Know, I shouldn't call them hos...but let's be honest, some of these people in your class are on that Walt Whitman tip (I am vast, I contain multitudes). Like, you see them in class, shaking in self-hatred while the night before, you saw them eyeballing a new set of gonads to place perpendicular to their nose. The funny thing is that they have an advantage in class...they're very sensory and use very provocative allusions to make their point...and no one of the opposite sex will counter those examples because, well, everyone is hoping to be the next one to put their children under her eyelids. Yo, I always find it funny how these enlightened hos can cite sources that are supposed to make their hoing become socially acceptable and spiritual. Like, "I'm not a ho, I'm just in tune with my multitudes of sexual partners and I'm liberated from the social constraints of sexual purity. I have transcended my gender roles and you should not judge me..." which can all be translated to "scut." Scores high with male teachers and low with females...haters.

3) The Libertarian
...First off, how many libertarians do you actually know? I'll answer it for you, one. Basically, being a libertarian means that you like no one taking your opinion seriously and that you are perfectly content with being compared to the sugar-water eater from men in black because of your brutish simplicity. In class, they are firestarters, comparing everything to communist Russia and slavery while simultaneously reaping the benefits of financial aid to be at the university that allows them to bitch and moan about every single governmental policy. And how does a discussion about gender roles in latin america turn into discussions about how the government shouldn't take taxes? Teachers don't give the libetarian grades because, quite frankly, they don't exist.

4) 21 Questions
This is the one who asks 1 billion questions every class because they think that it boosts their grade. What starts out as honestly seeking guidance becomes attention grubbing. If the teacher says "This started in Florida." You shouldn't need to ask "Do you mean the state south of Georgia?" (Shouts to all the negroes who got confused when I said Georgia. Y'know, the state with Atlanta. Remember, Atlanta is not a state, simple negroes)

5) Mr/s Outside Research
Y'know the one that reads the optional readings in class. Looks shit up and comes in acting like they are the most prepared every class...Well, they are, but still, do you really need to look up the etymology of a key word for every class? Also, is all you do class? Aren't you missing out on a good part of college life? Go outside, meet some people, put the book down, let me come up and get a better grade, you selfish bastard.

Those are my 5. Got any others to add to the list?

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Gonna Be a Lovely Day

So, I've been down a lot lately, and I think, in certain aspects, 4thursday has been reflecting that. So, let's have an upbeat day!


No real post today. Too much paper, not enough time. But I hope everyone has a great day and we'll get 4thursday crackin a little later on in the week. Listen to this song and make the day great.

As WU-Slam would normallly say: "Get money, Get squids"

Monday, February 15, 2010

10

Author's Note: Been on my heart for awhile. Might as well put up draft 3.

Yo, that is the baddest chick I've seen in a minute!
Like, on some celebrity status type bad,
They damn sure don't make'em like they used to.
Naw, dog, she's a 7 at best.
A 7? Naw, that's her friend. She's a 9 or 10,
Man, you just think she's bad because she's surrounded
By those beasts around her. Her friends are all 2's,
So of course she looks better.
Aight, you right, you right…


We needed a system,
Hierarchy, ranking
To quantify quality
Something to make things easier,

It's hard to describe you.
You should know your rank.

1- Someone so hideous that it should have ended up in the carpet. Or the happy towel.
2- Lil Wayne
3- Someone who's probably got a redeeming skill or a good personality, but is still pretty tough to look at. Probably shouldn't speak until spoken to. Just sayin
4- Slightly below average, they're trying, just falling short of normalcy.
5- Average Joe. We can be friends in public without me being embarrassed. Good job
6- Someone worth dating…temporarily
7- Someone worth dating,…permanently.
8- You can be a complete asshole, but I'll put up with your bullshit. You could actually make it on TV. Or a magazine. Or as a singer. With no talent.
9- You have the right to remain gorgeous. You don't even need to talk, you're so flippin amazing already. In fact, don't talk, you might lower your rating
10- Alicia Keys.

It make things easier.
It's just math,
Calculations,
It saves words like (fine/cute/gorgeous/attractive)
It makes it easier to remember,
We needed this
A simple game of numbers.
It's just math

1's and 2's are compatible, no one cares about them
She has low self-esteem,
She could be so much cuter if she didn't talk,
Damn threes, always sticking their heads
where they don't belong,
He's a 5, he's always shooting for 9's,
What a joke, he needs to know his role,
He's fat,
She's fat,
He/she's a 3,
So hideous that they should know
When to shut the hell up,
How did Jill Scott get famous,
Fat-ass,
Fantasia sings like a 9 but looks like a 2
Hideous
Know your role
She's a 9,
I don't know her name,
But I know she's a 9,
She'll probably only look for other 9's
And hang around 7s or above,
She needs to settle sometimes,
I don't know her name, though,

We don't need to waste words
Like smart/funny/thoughtful
Like cute/stunning/dedicated
It used to be a 2 number system,
You were either 1 or 0
Hot or not
Now, you have worth,
You have downward mobility,
There's no harm,
Nothing can go wrong
Be grateful,
Would you rather be a 0?

She told me that I was a 3,
Dammit, I’m a 3,
I need to learn my place
I want to bag her,
I want to multiply,
I don't care if she cheats, I don't want to know,
She's an 8, I may never get this chance again,
And how does he do it, he's a 4
And no one talks about 4s
But he keeps talking to 7s,
Like he matters,
It's bad math,
What the hell is her name,
Wait, I don't need to know her name,
She's a 10,
That's all I need to know,
Yo,
I'd do some terrible things to her, son.
Yo,
I'd beat the brakes of her son,
Yo,
I'd fuck the shit out of her son
She's a 2 that lives like a 2 son
She's a 10 that feels like a 2 son,
I don't want to be a 2 son
I don't want to be a number
I don't want you to be a number

We sat in a café,
Laughing,
As we figured out who was
Worth talking about,
Leaving 5,
Then eliminated anyone
With a trivial flaw,
Leaving 3
And reduced it
To 1
Worth
Anything.

I don't need you,
Never did,
We never needed you,
We never needed your name,
Or you,
Just your rank

This system is easy
I hope you can suck a good dick, 1
This system leaves no stone unturned
You're almost there, 4, just don't speak
This system is efficient
I only fucks with 7s or above
This system makes sense
I wish I was a 10

This system is flawed

I propose a new one:

1- I found a way to rank you based on your looks
2- Because as long as you're a number
3- We can continue to know our roles
4- Even if they're wrong
5- I'm sorry
6- For being too afraid to know you
7- And I want to erase these numbers
8- And replace them with compliments, qualities and conversations
9- I need to go back to the drawing board

Happy V-Day, you happy, coupled up, content people…to all the people rocking all black, Happy Single’s Awareness Day! To everyone who was depressed today…I hope the oxycoton tastes good for you.

(4Thursday does NOT endorse the use of drugs for cathartic purposes…unless you’re a 2…then do whatever it takes to get by)

So, this is me just putting up some phrases that I hear on the regular that bother me.

1) You betta get dat shit!”

Every time I hear this at a party, I wanna cut someone. It’s really obnoxious when you’re dancing with some chick (especially if you’re someone like me and you’re, by default, self-conscious) and some asshat with a polo and too much alcohol in their blood comes clapping over your head saying that mess. What does that even mean…really? I don’t want her shit. That’s disgusting…in fact, if some chick said that during intercourse, I’m liable to go limp.

2) “Look, I bought it, so it’s MY hair.”

I’m very sure that slave masters used that same logic when they beat slaves. “I bought this nigger, so it’s MY nigger.” That hair wasn’t there yesterday…then it grew 7 inches and you expect me to believe that? C’mon, it’s usually the wrong texture, it usually looks tacky, you’re neck looks strained and it gives melanin-deprived folk more reason to laugh at us. Stop it. Just stop.

3) “We’ve been dating for awhile and…wow, you’re such a good friend.”

...

…Just die, ho....

4) “Man, we’re young. Make your mistakes now."

Oh Golly Gee, I’ve been wanting to sleep with the girl who I’m 99.9999999% sure has ghonorrea-syphalAIDS for SOOOO long, I might as well do it while I’m young. I can ALWAYS wash the shame off of me.

5) “I’ve never done this before…”

…you mean with me, right? My boy hit and said you did this quite often. In fact, for someone who has never done this before, you sure do know a lot of tricks….

6) “Can I introduce you to my friend, ______? She’s really nice”

Two things wrong here. One, I’m not trying to talk to your friend, I’m trying to talk to you. Don’t give me the silver when I’m trying to get the gold, ma’am. Two…when women define someone by how nice they are, how outgoing they are or how talented they are at something…the person they are describing is busted. It’s ALWAYS true.

7) “You want to meet my *insert greek letter here* father?”

Do I want to eat spicy cyanide popsicles?

Here’s my list. Fellas, what things do you hear that make your skin crawl?

Saturday, February 13, 2010

An Overdue Response

So, tomorrow's the day of love...named after the patron saint of happy marriages, strong couples, bee keepers, plague and epileptics...? Not much is known about Good ol' St. Valentine except for that he was a missional minister who tried to convert an emperor and was stoned, clubbed and beheaded. In fact, we don't even know if there was only one Valentine...


I digress.

(I must forewarn you, this post may be dripping with sarcasm.)

Yesterday was our wonderful Black love and relationship panel discussion, featuring some pretty fine individuals from the Berkeley area and a recently graduated student. There was a good turn out, and why not? People always have an opinion when it comes to black love.

We've had these discussions before. What does a black relationship look like? Why can't black men and women get along? What ever happened to courting? Why would you let a good one go? Why don't our shit stink and yours smell SO bad? yadayadayadaya

So, as I began to space out from a discussion focusing on marriage (which is something I'm just not interested in at the present moment) I started thinking back to our last gender discussion. We're in a camp, two sides facing each other, eyes narrow, like a showdown. It's early in the year but bad feelings from years past have fluttered into this room. There's three moderators...but in this case, we'll call them referees...or the UN Peacekeepers. Yea, it's about to be a war.

The discussion begins with frustrations: "Why don't you like us?" "Why don't you respect us?" "Where are the good one's at?" "Why do you run to other schools?"
It turned into confessionals: "I've been hurt by..." "I don't believe in you all because..."
And a statement was thrown out that still rings into my ears today:

"Maybe you men should look inside yourselves and ask...'Am I Worthy?' of being with a black woman at Washington Universty?"

So, I sat on that. Contemplated. "looked inside myself."

*sigh*

This statement implies two things:
1) That the men at WashU don't know their worth
2) That the women at WashU not only know their worth, but are allowed to use their (probably flawed) concept of self-worth as a projection of eligibility to the WashU men

And what is this "worth?" Is it some mythical-metaphysical bullshit measurement of qualities and thought processes that can be made tangible? Is it some nice post-depressed-ice-cream-eating-binge phrase used in closed door conversations to make the dumped not seem so defeated? Is it something any of us ACTUALLY ever think of outside of our attempts to degrade people we're supposed to be uplifting while synonymously calling it "honesty?" How is someone to know that their worthy? How do I know if I'm not overqualified to be with you? What separates me from you? How do you know that you're not over assessing your worth? How do you know that you're not downplaying someone else's worth?

How do we know that the entire statement wasn't just to make oneself look better while simultaneously making every guy in that room look worse.

Under the right amount of pressure, carbon can take the form of Diamond or Graphite. How many lumps of Graphite have you helped create?

A lot of people have been hurt by a minority. That's legit...but it's a minority. A small part. And the good majority have to pay for them. We are made to feel worthless because you've been hurt. We are forced to make other's feel worthless to gain our worth back. And the cycle continues. The chicken and the egg, really.

I'm tired of paying for my brother's crimes. Yes, a few dudes at this university have messed up, have played women, have hurt them...but why should I have to continually pay for them? If this concept of worth holds any water, then I'm worth more than that. The VAST majority of the men are worth more than that. I know it's easier to let such a small part define the whole, but maybe it's time to grow up a little bit, stop elevating yourselves at our expense and make an effort to grow with us, not apart from us.

And if you want to stand by this divisive and foolish notion of "worthy," then examine your own self worth. See how many people you've hurt. See how many times you've done the same things that we're accused of. See if you're really as close to being a diamond as you claim to be.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

The iGoogle World

So, two days ago, Google released "Google Buzz," Google's (insecure) response to basically every social networking site. It basically removes all reason to leave Gmail. I don't know if I like it yet, but as with every social networking site, eventually, it'll be my thang-thang (That sounded sexual).

So, lets be real: What HASN'T Google taken over? They run the e-mail game, they run the online file-sharing game, they run the online collaboration game, Picasa is quickly taking over the photo-sharing game, its search engine was so popular that it never needed advertising until THIS YEARS SUPERBOWL (I'll write about that depressing commercial and why I don't fucks with Google's search engine anymore late. One word: Marriage.) Google runs most of the technological world now...

...except for the spaces run by Apple.

When I'm not online, I'm listening to my iPod. Everybody beats me over the head with their Macbooks and their iMacs and shit. iTunes is closer to having a fully functional browser integrated into its programming, iPod has replaced the term "mp3" player, now there's the damned iPad. Oh, even though Andriod is like, the shit, the iPhone still runs phones. (If only Att could win an Advertising war, huh?)

Between Apple and Google, most bases are covered...but there are places in the future that they can battle it out over:

1) GoogleBlock: Have someone who keeps contacting you through, well, anything? Google has a API for that. First, it searches all information on the person you need to block. Then it blocks their internet access and when they walk outside to stalk you, they run into a "Verizon-posse" type group that keeps them away from you. Where my Stalked people at? (I could have used this before I started getting messages about people picturing my fuckin children...*shudder*)

2) iForgot: Forgot the song you were looking for? Want your computer program to act as lost as you so you don't feel so bad about it? iForgot has your back. You'll punch in the 2 words or hum the off-key version you think is right and it responds just like your friends: Vaguely. "Yo, you remember that song that went...er..."don't hurt...yea?" "Oh, you mean that one song?" "Yea, that song, what's it called." "Dawg, I really don't remember, but it's a dope track." "Word. Ugh, it's on the tip of my tongue." "Why not google the lyrics?"

3) GoogleSoul: So, you're in a chatroom...wait, who the hell uses chatrooms? Okay, you're on facebook, chatting with that one MF you REALLY don't like. They say something that, although isn't wrong, incites an undue wrath...or they put up a picture that looks like five platypuses making eggs on shoulders. You wanna be ignorant, but you don't know if it's okay. Ask GoogleSoul. It can either council you out of your decision...or do the roasting for you. (I could really use this)

4) iHoe: Sometimes, you need to cheat. Badly. Let's be real, you'll get tired of the same vagina or same dick if you see it every flippin day. We need variety...and our significant others are too selfish to understand this. (Silly, right?) That's what the iHoe is for. By subscribing to Apple's iHoe, you create the iHoe of your dreams, have them delivered, and get to beatin. When finished, it plays soothing music to put you to sleep. Don't worry, it doesn't talk )for you fellas who crave efficiency.) I know, what if my girl walks in? Well, show her the Apple Logo and the catchy theme music that plays when you stroke her clickwheel. (Random: Can you imagine a touchscreen clitoris?) Have your significant other join in. It's not nasty! It's Apple!

(I think the iHoe is already out. I know a few.)

Now, seeing as how I'm marketingly challenged, I can only think of 4 things. What's everyone else got? What does an iGoogle world look like to you?

Friday, January 15, 2010

Suck Wall vol. 1

So, a few months ago, Naia and I went in on a #yousuck topic. I was thinking back on that today and decided that I would make a "Suck Wall." This will be a list of things that frustrate the hell out of me.

Remember, I am a self-confessed asshole. If you're sensitive...you may want to turn around now.

Things that belong on the suck wall:

1) Greeks who spells shit with their greek letters. I understand that you have to have pride for your PHrAternity, but do you reAlly need to KApAtAlize every letter And replAce every phoneticAlly similar KhArActer to make me believe that you are part of your group? The stuff looks stupid, it's hard to read...and it took me 7 minutes to type that last sentence. Get out of here and stick to steppin.

2) Lord of the Rings fans. Yea, I said it. I can't stand those long, boring movies and books. They just never end. The movie is hard to follow and boring. The book is just filled with unnecessary details that distracts from the story...which is still hard to follow and boring. The fans, however, will call you stupid if you don't like it. Just because you read each book 5 times to understand it doesn't mean you're smart, jackass.

3) Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson. You put out that boo-boo Before I Self Destruct and Curtis. Why? Why do you hate your fans so much? No, I will not support your beefs. No, I will not keep ranting about how you were dope when Get Rich or Die Trying came out. You've lost your hip-hop edge. Congrats on the businesses...but maybe you should drop the title of rapper.

4) Pat Robertson and Rush Limbaugh. For obvious reasons.

5) Atheists who look for reasons to bash God. Y'all like to list ways that the church has ostracized people and ish but then bash God in the same manner. That's kind of hypocritical. I don't really care if you don't want to believe. Just don't bash my God to make yourself feel better.

6) Black women with hairy lips. Before the dogs come loose: I don't like white women with hairy lips either. The difference is that I can see them from a distance while with a black chick, you gotta be right up on them to see the multitude of straggly hairs accumulating around their mouth. That's deceptive. I will gasp and point at it.

7) Conspiracy Theorist. Sometimes y'all say some thought provoking mess...then mess it up with Satan and aliens.

8) Stores that should ALWAYS have something but always run out. St. Louis Bread Co., I'm talking to you. You are a BREAD CO. You should never run out of bagels or anything bread related. C'monson!

9) The Bold Ugly Friend. We all know these people. Someone's cute but they got the velociraptor with them. They, because of people like Oprah and Tyra telling them so, wholeheartedly believe they deserve attention like their much cuter friends. They will hate on any dude that talks to the friends and try to steal the spot light. I carry a tranquilizer gun for these creatures. Real talk.

10) Twitter Thugs and Twitter Hoes. Fellas, if you are on Twitter braggin about your stroke game, you have know stroke game. If you are talkin about all the people you bodied, you have never been in a fight. Women, all of you can't be models. Half of y'all look like Geodude from Pokemon. Stop it. Also, you are not a barbie. You'll need much more than 140 characters to make me believe otherwise.

That's my list for today. What's on your list?

Thursday, January 14, 2010

I'm not _______-ist!

So, it's the November Poetry Slam. I'm preparing to fight for my spot in the Grand Slam. Someone I consider a friend does a poem during the open mic. It's called "Let Me Tap That Ass." He says some pretty sexist things in the poem.$ I won't say otherwise, lol. He also brings up an interesting point. He's a worker in the DUC, spends hours cleaning up after us. He's 22-23 and a student at a neighboring school. He noticed that his status at the school automatically disqualifies him from talking to women at WUSTL, who he finds attractive.

In the wake of the poem, a girl retorts against his sexual language and uses her age as the signifier of his deviant advances. (She's 17, which is the Age of Consent here.) The women of WUSTL all stand and applaud the piece...which was kind of...bad... while uniting against the guy who did the initial piece.

Yes, the language he used was aggressive, was sexist, yadayadayadayadaya. Like I said, i won't argue that. I completely agree with complaints against his poem on that turf. I also think his poem showcased a big issue with the general community at WUSTL that will be overlooked because of the other things he said.

So I'll say them.

Classism is very prevalent in our environment. It comes from this sense of entitlement that a lot of the students have. Y'know, the "I worked my ass off in school (even if I didn't), So I deserve a man/woman who is this-that-theother and will make X amount of money and do X amount of things for me!" This sense of entitlement isn't necessarily a bad thing. Classes are a necessary evil. As people accomplish more, their standards should rise. The problem is then those standards lead to 1)a negative assumption about someone who is not in your same class and 2)the belief that higher class equals higher value.

The negative assumptions about the initial poet were that he was an older, uneducated, lecherous man. Although the third quality is contested because of the piece, the first two were far from true. As a worker, people at WUSTL look at him and assume that he automatically has certain qualities about him. Most of the people who had negative experiences with him cited the way he looks at them...all the while dating someone who attends our school who looks at them the exact same way. In fact, looking at the males in our school, I'm surprised that more women don't go for workers. At least they cherish the women more. We hold certain qualities against workers (even when they haven't exhibited them) but not against fellow students.

But hey, they're students. They have more room for improvement.

Now, we would be mad if someone treats us different based on skin tone. Why do we do it off something as trivial as occupation?

What I find just as interesting is the rebuttal argument: "I'm not classist! I always make sure I make friends who work at my school."
If you intentionally seek out certain people to make friends based on their class, you're doing it as a form of charity work. That uses the same assumptions as someone who treats them negatively. They both also have the added bonus of making you feel better about yourself.

Well, that's my two-cents.

(I know that my last few entries have been poorly written and all that...but this is a blog. A lot of these thoughts are incomplete. I just write what I feel and move on with my life.)

Monday, January 11, 2010

Delimma


Last week, I went to Legacy Books open mic with my dude, Justin McCain aka 4Real. I didn't feel like performing, but he did and I wanted to be there for support since he hasn't performed in a few months. The scene was dope. A lot of older folk who have some real stories and some younger folk who don't adhere to some of the poet stereotypes. The only stereotype that really stood out is the whole "Poet Name" thing...Why does every urban poet have to have "Poetic" in their name? It's played out, people.

Anyway, on the way back, my boy and I were talking about relationships and the problem with time. We're both two very busy people with a busier life coming up, so how do you find time to work a relationship in there? The biggest fear that came up was that you may be able to work someone into your life only to find out that they were a complete waste of time. Like most people, both of us have been burned a few times, which was okay in HS, but now, getting played doesn't only affect you emotionally, there's a practical side also. Time spent developing a relationship with someone could have been productive to other areas that needed the attention. For example, I run a non-profit. The operation of this non-profit in it's 2nd year takes a toll on my free time. For me to make time for a relationship, I have to cut down on the time I spend on the non-profit. Now, let's say I'm in this relationship for a year or two and find out the nasty heffa cheats or something like that (Listen, bitter chicks, I already know men cheat. We ain't talking about us, tho. That's not part of this discussion, go back to your hole and wait for areal opportunity to be angry.) There a significant emotional shock that occurs, which is natural. There is also the reduced efficiency of the non-profit that was incurred when i reduced time to work on it to make time for a relationship.

This can be applied to art, work, hustlin, whatever you're doing.

Now, I normally think it's justified to turn away from the compromise needed for a relationship if too many other facets of your life are going to suffer because of it. On that same token, I don't want to block blessings, and the person I turn away because of other responsibilities could be the one who is "the one." (I HATE that term, just so you know.)

My question is: Do you ever find yourself avoiding relationships based on other responsibilities?