Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Check it out and leave a comment or a suggestion
(I know the text is too small...I'm working on it! Oh, and Thanks to my wife for the wondeful work she did last night to get the thing finally up and working! YAY better half!)
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Bimbo tourist #1: Anyway, so when he pulled it out of me it made this farting noise, and I know it wasn't a fart because it didn't smell, and... It was just really embarrassing.
Bimbo tourist #2: Quip.
Bimbo tourist #1: What?
Bimbo tourist #2: A quip. The farting noise, it's called a 'quip.'
Bimbo tourist #1: Oh, they have a name for it? Wow.
Bimbo tourist #2: Oh, totally. It happens to a lot of people.
Stranger: Um, that's not right.
Bimbo tourist #2: Excuse me, sir?
Stranger: No, it's 'queef.'
Bimbo tourist #2: Wait, what?
Bimbo tourist #1: I think he's saying his name is 'Queef' or something.
Bimbo tourist #2: Oh, sorry. Excuse me, Queef?
Stranger: No... Oh, lord. The sound, it's 'queef.'
Bimbo tourist #2: Who's a 'queef?' What's going on?
Bimbo tourist #1: I think he's one of those crazy subway guys you hear about. I think he's telling us he's gay.
Stranger: I can hear you, and I'm not... What? That's 'queer,' you ingrate!
Bimbo tourist #1: Here's some money for you, sir. Buy your boyfriend a nice grocery cart or something.
Stranger: What?! Does it look like I'm homeless to you? I'm wearing fucking YSL over here... I ain't queer and I ain't homeless. You ignorant, you skinny, Paris Hilton-wannabe whores. All I was saying to you was that when your sleazy-ass friend over here pulled her boyfriend's dick out of her STD-ridden pussy, the word...
Bimbo tourist #1: I'm not following... Is he speaking Cockney or something?
Bimbo tourist #2: I don't know. Are you allowed to mace crazy hobos?
Stranger: ...I'm not fucking crazy!
Bimbo tourist #2: Of course you aren't, sir.
Passenger: Oh, shut your mouth, both of ya, or I'm gonna whoop both your scrawny asses, you hear?
Stranger: Thank you. All I was saying was...
Old lady: Ah, hell no! Can't you see this conversation has gone past anyone in this damn subway's comprehension? Know when to drop it, brother. Know when to drop it.
Bimbo tourist #2: [Mouthing] Oh my god.
Bimbo tourist #1: I know. That was intense.
Stranger, muttering to himself: ... Last time I ever take a subway... Unbelievable shit I put up with... Fucking Civics... Unreliable fuckers...
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
*Daughter points to something on the mantle*
Daughter: Whats that daddy?
ME: Thats a Clock.
Me, a bit unnerved: No, no...Clock...Clock
Daughter, proudly: Cock!
Me, having heart-attack: No baby...it's very important to say the L...Lock..lets just call it a Lock
Me: Right! Now go to your room...
I mentioned on Dwights blog some time ago, about the power of words and how the N-word, in particular has such a strange and necrotic effect on any sort of intelligent debate on race and racial issues in the country. As black people, is it enough to condemn someone who is non-black for using the slur but then allow and relish in it's use in popular culture by some of our favorite comedians? You can't have your cake and eat it too and you can't be surprised that if you cuss in front of your children, eventually, they will learn to swear just as well.
Dave Chapelle listed, among many other things, an intriguing (to me) reason why he left his staggeringly successful and popular show and a check for $50 million. He felt that his satire about race and racial issues was becoming so mainstream that the behaviors he was lampooning were being emulated, not because they were bafoonish and stupid and necessarily the subjects of ridicule, but because they were funny. He really started to feel the effects of seeing the word proliferate all over cable television, without editing, and without much fanfare. He was instrumental in helping to bring the word back into mainstream usage by all peoples, for good and for bad. Perhaps he had hoped (and I believe this) that by talking and using the word and making the whole thing so utterly ridiculous, that he could rob it of some of it's power to shape our dialog and get in the way of actually solving our problems of race. But I think he saw that goal unsurprisingly derailed.
While the Michael Richards Incident is sad, it's really just a flash in the pan of a much larger debate about the identity of african americans and our relationship to all aspects of our own popular culture, both what was homegrown and authentic, as well as what is reflected back onto us or fabricated and fed down our throats. THAT debate is much more complicated, harder to tackle, and ultimately, nearly impossible to solve.
Does knowing Michael Richards used a racial slur (and he really went to town on the guy...it didnt just slip out...) make his work on Seinfeld any less funny? Do you stop watching the show in syndication? I never watched the show (The TV gets turned on for sports, Grey's Anatomy, and the Xbox360) religiously but I've caught a couple of episodes, some of which were gut-wrenchingly hilarious. But I noticed (as with Friends and a couple of other High profile, mid to late 90's sitcoms) the strange absence of black people with any sort of actual merit in the show. Sometimes, there would be no black folks at all. But then again, sometimes I just look real hard for stuff like that. But then again, its very easy to notice.
Anyway...um...didn't I say something about not beating this dead horse?
*Kicks the rotting corpse of a horse*
Thats it...I'm done
Turkey Day is fast upon us folks! I hope you all are hip to the Brine method of cooking your turkeys. If not, I suggest you get yourselves and those responsible for cooking your bird HERE with all alacrity and due haste. Your tastebuds will thank you as the method will ensure your bird will be the most succulent your mouth has ever had the pleasure of dining upon.
The Sickness spreads! Cammy, our dear sweet child, has contracted a contagion of the nasty throat-filled with phlegm, runny nose, low grade fever variety. I stayed home with our sickly princess yesterday and Grandma has the duty today. Normally school is one of her favorite activities and she regularly asks on days she isn't going if the schedule can somehow be arranged to accomodate her desire for learning and fun. Today, she just wanted to go back to sleep. Poor thing.
Tune in next week when Benticore, Raquita, Grandma, Great Grandma, and Anubis serve as phlegm incubators in the small 1-act play entitled; 'Not without my Tissue!'
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Is actually coming back. Gentle readers, let me tell you of a place, both strange a terrible. It is the place without the Blog, an empty, searing wasteland where curious thoughts tumble blindly, without purpose or audience. Nothing lives there; the ground is an ugly scrabble of dirt and dead roots of plants long devoured by time, the air dry and empty, pulling the moisture from your mouth greedily, like a suckling pig made of wind.
I wandered this place for weeks, lost, confused, alone. I carried with me a heavy burden: My life had pulled me into this nether region of woe and yet, as I stayed away, I began to Forget the way back, the way home.
That is until I realized something so simple yet profound to me. I am not Jesus.
Let that sink in. You might wonder, gentle reader, why I had confused myself with Jesus (not the one who sold you that used boombox off the back of his truck in 1987, but, you know, JC...The Man!) in the first place. Indeed, I had not known that I had tried to walk in his footsteps until a chance meeting and a non-sequitor from a well meaning but overly pedantic lawyer unfocused me and made me realize what I was doing. Lawyers? Ah yes...perhaps I should start at the beginning...
During the months of August, September, and October, my life took on complexity of cartoonish proportions. My father was Illegally jailed for non-compliance of a contempt of court charge dealing with his ongoing divorce/seperation with his 2nd wife who might just be the most evil person I know. He had sunk so far into depression that going to Jail was a Lift but he was not read his rights, he was not allowed to post bond or bail and was not even told the specific charge on which he was held.
My mother succumbed to the evils of alcoholism and we (myself and my wife, Raquita) were forced to put her in a Nursing home against her will. She agreed to give me power of attourney, and though she didnt want to go into the home, she knew that it was the best place for her.
My wife's sister got married.
My daughter started school (last week)
IT seemed as if life was not just throwing me curveballs, but fastballs, changeups, bean-balls, footballs, soccer balls, boomerangs, bean bags, bowling bawls, and a life sized blow-up doll of Pee-Wee Herman, just for it's own sense of evil comic absurdity.
And I thought I had to shoulder it all myself.
So I left and wandered the blogless wilderness for 40 days, soldiering on in what I thought was the true essence of manliness. You know, silently stoic, going down with the ship, holding together when other, mere mortal men, crack and scream under the pressure? Truly stupid stuff, but it seemed the right thing to do at the time, from my warped, fatigued point of view.
But then I met my fathers lawyer (the one my lovely wife secured for us). He talked about my father's case for awhile (my father has since been released, the Judge apologized for letting the whole thing happen and our lawyer is grinning about the chance to really ream the other lawyer for what he did to my father) but the conversation oddly segued into his experience with many pastors across the country, including our own pastor and his entourage with which he is never seen without in public. He said that Jesus, though he had his disciples, walked alone. Jesus carried the burdens and walked for the sins of all of us. Thank god that you and I dont have to.
My world stopped. Right. There.
I am not jesus. I dont have to walk alone. I dont have to drown in this guilt, and stress and regret. I dont have to shoulder it alone.
It was an epiphany, one that I should have known all along but has lost sight of on the way. From that day forward, my life, though no less complex, became much Lighter. I hugged my wife. I kissed my kid. I got my father out of jail. But I didnt come back to the bloggosphere.
The epilogue: My mother is doing well, gaining weight and is happier. She's surrounded by people who know her and a few who love her, including her own mother, and though she gets bored, is much healthier there than on her own where she could be by herself and not allow anyone to see her (which is exactly what happened).
My Father is moving ahead with the divorce proceedings and has gone back on his medication. He told me that it must be working because he found himself singing in the car with the radio off. He's never done that in his life before and it made me so happy I nearly teared up in the vietnamese restaurant we were having lunch in.
Raquita's Sister's wedding went off without a hitch, my daughter stole the show as the flower girl and nearly burst my heart with pride as she walked down that isle. I couldn't help but shout 'Thats my girl! Thats my daughter!' to the rest of the church as she calmly walked down the isle, throwing her flowers and reminding me, painfully, that in 25 years or so, I will be walking her down that isle to give her hand to some guy she's fallen in love with....sigh...
Cammy loves school, she's having fun, learning well, and charming the pants off of her classmates and teachers. She cried the first few times we left her and now just wimpers a litte. The joy on her face when she sees us both we go to pick her up just lifts my head every day.
Me? I'm doing well. I'm starting a new excercise and meal program with my wife so we can eat healthier and lose some weight. I havent had a chance to write a lick in these past two months as nearly every night has had me either putting out fires or lighting them, but I look forward to the lull between thanksgiving and christmas.
So, to recap. I'm back. I'm NOT Jesus. I'm happy though my life is still full. And I've returned to blogging actively, though my new site isn't up yet. It will hopefully go up this weekend once I find the perfect artwork to set the basic template off...
(Sorry it took so long amigos...thanks for the offers of help...funny that it took a lawyer to snap myself out of...myself...)