Wednesday, March 09, 2005
The Notorious BIG died today eight years ago. Rest in Peace.
Some say he's the greatest rapper of all time.
But Biggie's impact as an emcee is not as wide felt as some make it out to be. People have to face it. Biggie sold an image just as much as he sold his rhymes. Tupac did it. NWA did it. They were all larger than life rappers and heads bought into that as being "real". The image adds legitimacy to the rhymes. Why do people call him "Frank White"? Because he's the "King of New York", right? Well, that says nothing about his ability as a rapper. It was his ability to sell his IMAGE that made that work. Puffy had A LOT to do with that.
I'm not knocking BIG. Don't get it twisted. "Ready To Die" could be released tomorrow and blow heads away in today's market because it was so ahead of its time. I love his music. There's no doubt about it. But I still don't see him as the "Greatest To Get On The Mic", because he just isn't.
You take into consideration all the things that make emcees dope like wordplay, alliteration, cadence, breath control, timing, rhyme pattern, conviction, etc. There are emcees that had and have those skills and do it as well or even better than BIG ever did.
Some people think it's from Johnny Dangerously. Some think I stole it from Lobo.
But "Bastitch" actually started off as a joke between me and one of my good friends. It's a combination of "bastard" and "bitch", a two pronged attack against one's ego. So we'd go back and forth shooting "bastitch" at eat other followed by chuckles, and about half the time a "fuck you".
So one day I'm chatting with that same friend online and he links me to a message board. He tells me he already made me a user account and I should be receiving the email soon. Next thing you know, my user name on http://talk.to/niketalk is "Bastitch".
Initially, I was like "Hey, fuck this. I'm making my own user name." But I got lazy and put it off for a couple days. Then a couple days became a week. Then it eventually turned into a month. By then, I was already known as "Bastitch", so the desire to change it eventually wore off. Now, I AM "Bastitch". I've meet a good amount of people in person from that message board, some of which even call me "Bastitch" in person, even after they have learned my real name (which really irks the fuck out of me).
Nicknames such as "Bas", or "Bassy" have even popped up. It's kind of funny because in the virtual world of the Internet, you really become your screen name to some people. If I were to ever meet some one like Kool Keith in person, I'd be compelled to call him just that: "Kool Keith". Fuck, I don't even KNOW his real name. Maybe it's Keith. Who knows?
But I'd like to think that I'm a little more grounded in reality to think like that. The Internet causes a lot of people to act in ways they normally wouldn't in their personal lives. This reprecussionless nature of the World Wide Web has caused a lot of people to put out personalities not of their true selves, but of people they wish they were. Or maybe of people they think they are.
I can't lie. I am aware that there is some hypocrisy in my criticism. I'm guilty of putting out a facade to a certain extent. But I honestly do make an effort to be true to who I really am. Does it lead to a little self-censorship and slightly limit my ability to freely express myself? Sure.
But demonstrating restraint of any nature is a true form of power.
I like how that sounds. I love how that feels.
But "Bastitch" actually started off as a joke between me and one of my good friends. It's a combination of "bastard" and "bitch", a two pronged attack against one's ego. So we'd go back and forth shooting "bastitch" at eat other followed by chuckles, and about half the time a "fuck you".
So one day I'm chatting with that same friend online and he links me to a message board. He tells me he already made me a user account and I should be receiving the email soon. Next thing you know, my user name on http://talk.to/niketalk is "Bastitch".
Initially, I was like "Hey, fuck this. I'm making my own user name." But I got lazy and put it off for a couple days. Then a couple days became a week. Then it eventually turned into a month. By then, I was already known as "Bastitch", so the desire to change it eventually wore off. Now, I AM "Bastitch". I've meet a good amount of people in person from that message board, some of which even call me "Bastitch" in person, even after they have learned my real name (which really irks the fuck out of me).
Nicknames such as "Bas", or "Bassy" have even popped up. It's kind of funny because in the virtual world of the Internet, you really become your screen name to some people. If I were to ever meet some one like Kool Keith in person, I'd be compelled to call him just that: "Kool Keith". Fuck, I don't even KNOW his real name. Maybe it's Keith. Who knows?
But I'd like to think that I'm a little more grounded in reality to think like that. The Internet causes a lot of people to act in ways they normally wouldn't in their personal lives. This reprecussionless nature of the World Wide Web has caused a lot of people to put out personalities not of their true selves, but of people they wish they were. Or maybe of people they think they are.
I can't lie. I am aware that there is some hypocrisy in my criticism. I'm guilty of putting out a facade to a certain extent. But I honestly do make an effort to be true to who I really am. Does it lead to a little self-censorship and slightly limit my ability to freely express myself? Sure.
But demonstrating restraint of any nature is a true form of power.
I like how that sounds. I love how that feels.
Monday, March 07, 2005
It kind of sucks how Michael Jackson has gotten himself into this mess.
I'll admit it. I'm a fan. They played that tribute special they aired on one of the major networks a couple years ago on VH1 recently. My wife and I sat down and watched as some of today's stars took their shot at honoring MJ by singing his classics. The culmination of the ceremony happened when Michael performed a medley of his songs on stage for the crowd. I couldn't help but get goosebumps thinking about how magnificent an entertainer he was, and to a lesser extent is.
When talking about Michael Jackson and the molestation convictions during last HBO Comedy special "Never Scared", Chris Rock asked, "Remember when we used to ask who was better, Michael Jackson or Prince? Prince WON!". It's sad, but true.
Michael Jackson's legacy will be forever tarnished by this accusations, whether they are true or not. But I still listen to and enjoy his music. And interestingly enough, so has my son. He's 4 now, and is begining to develop a taste in music. "Beat it" is his favorite. He also enjoys "Smooth Criminal", since he knows that it is my favorite. He requests it when I'm picking him up from school or dropping him off at his grandparents' house. He knows nothing about the molestation charges. He knows nothing about the rampant rumors that have circulated in the past 20 years. No Elephant Man remains. No skin bleaching. No sleeping in hyperbaric chambers. Just the music.
And that's how you know that American Society is hung up on celebrity. The music is forgotten. Video killed the radio star, and in turn badly injured music. We're so caught up in how someone looks, what they wear, what they eat, who they are married to, who they're fucking while being married to someone else, etc. And I love music. I don't care if you're retarded with three fingers and a banjo. If it sounds good, I'm going to listen to it. Unfortunately, I'm in the minority. People want the total package. They demand perfection, but not musically. They want artists to be more than they are. They aren't gods, they are musicians.
My son, with zero notion of celebrity understands this. It's cool, innocent, and refreshing. But the day is inevitable. The day when he asks "Why did you let me listen to that FREAKS music when I was young?" But that day is still off in the horizon. I'll let him enjoy it for now. No need to.
It's kind of fucked up that I'd let him listen to his music, but wouldn't let him meet Michael. Hell naw. Fuck THAT.
Interesting post script to this story, my son asked me the other day, "Daddy, is Michael Jackson a boy or a girl." I had to hold back the laughter and compose myself before I simply answered, "He's a boy." Little does HE know how literal my answer was.
I'll admit it. I'm a fan. They played that tribute special they aired on one of the major networks a couple years ago on VH1 recently. My wife and I sat down and watched as some of today's stars took their shot at honoring MJ by singing his classics. The culmination of the ceremony happened when Michael performed a medley of his songs on stage for the crowd. I couldn't help but get goosebumps thinking about how magnificent an entertainer he was, and to a lesser extent is.
When talking about Michael Jackson and the molestation convictions during last HBO Comedy special "Never Scared", Chris Rock asked, "Remember when we used to ask who was better, Michael Jackson or Prince? Prince WON!". It's sad, but true.
Michael Jackson's legacy will be forever tarnished by this accusations, whether they are true or not. But I still listen to and enjoy his music. And interestingly enough, so has my son. He's 4 now, and is begining to develop a taste in music. "Beat it" is his favorite. He also enjoys "Smooth Criminal", since he knows that it is my favorite. He requests it when I'm picking him up from school or dropping him off at his grandparents' house. He knows nothing about the molestation charges. He knows nothing about the rampant rumors that have circulated in the past 20 years. No Elephant Man remains. No skin bleaching. No sleeping in hyperbaric chambers. Just the music.
And that's how you know that American Society is hung up on celebrity. The music is forgotten. Video killed the radio star, and in turn badly injured music. We're so caught up in how someone looks, what they wear, what they eat, who they are married to, who they're fucking while being married to someone else, etc. And I love music. I don't care if you're retarded with three fingers and a banjo. If it sounds good, I'm going to listen to it. Unfortunately, I'm in the minority. People want the total package. They demand perfection, but not musically. They want artists to be more than they are. They aren't gods, they are musicians.
My son, with zero notion of celebrity understands this. It's cool, innocent, and refreshing. But the day is inevitable. The day when he asks "Why did you let me listen to that FREAKS music when I was young?" But that day is still off in the horizon. I'll let him enjoy it for now. No need to.
It's kind of fucked up that I'd let him listen to his music, but wouldn't let him meet Michael. Hell naw. Fuck THAT.
Interesting post script to this story, my son asked me the other day, "Daddy, is Michael Jackson a boy or a girl." I had to hold back the laughter and compose myself before I simply answered, "He's a boy." Little does HE know how literal my answer was.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
When you work 12 hours a night doing pretty much nothing but watching TV and surfing the Internet (and fighting the urge to risk your job by looking at porn from your desk), you run into shit like this:
SlipUps.com
And I can dig it. Tons of movies. Tons of slip ups. Check out your favorite movie. I'm sure someone fucked up.
SlipUps.com
And I can dig it. Tons of movies. Tons of slip ups. Check out your favorite movie. I'm sure someone fucked up.
GoogleFight.com ain't no joke...
Round 1 - Bastitch vs. Muscle 68
Yeah, no upsets here.
Round 2 - Bing's Bangs vs. Leah's Boobs
No upsets here, either.
Round 3
Ryan having sex with a middle-aged Brazilian chick vs Drinking the sweat off of Kool Keith's balls
You heard it here folks. The upset of the century.
Friday, February 18, 2005
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
The music we listen to is the soundtrack of our lives.
That's nothing new. I'm sure you've heard that before. But it takes on even more relevant meaning when you think about how certain songs seem to yank memories from the past and make them so vivid you feel like it just happened yesterday.
There's that commercial out now that refers to scent as the strongest sense linked to memory. But it's hard to argue against sense of sound, and and more specifically, music. It is one of the most literal forms of artistic expression. Unlike other forms of art such as painting or dance, music leaves little to interpretation yet Not only can the lyrics describe emotion and a state of being, but the melody itself is a form of descriptive expression. You can even dig further and look into the tone of the voice, voice inflection, and cadence as evidence of this unique art of expression.
This identification of music's place within our lives has even seeped into our everyday language. The coordination of cohesive but seperate parts in a beautiful manner are described as a "symphony" or "melodic". Good news is "music to the ears". When all is well, we are living in "harmony". These metaphors are not the product of coincidence. There is a reason why we associate music with happiness, joy, and well-being, and vice-versa.
That's nothing new. I'm sure you've heard that before. But it takes on even more relevant meaning when you think about how certain songs seem to yank memories from the past and make them so vivid you feel like it just happened yesterday.
There's that commercial out now that refers to scent as the strongest sense linked to memory. But it's hard to argue against sense of sound, and and more specifically, music. It is one of the most literal forms of artistic expression. Unlike other forms of art such as painting or dance, music leaves little to interpretation yet Not only can the lyrics describe emotion and a state of being, but the melody itself is a form of descriptive expression. You can even dig further and look into the tone of the voice, voice inflection, and cadence as evidence of this unique art of expression.
This identification of music's place within our lives has even seeped into our everyday language. The coordination of cohesive but seperate parts in a beautiful manner are described as a "symphony" or "melodic". Good news is "music to the ears". When all is well, we are living in "harmony". These metaphors are not the product of coincidence. There is a reason why we associate music with happiness, joy, and well-being, and vice-versa.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
San Francisco is filled with some of the most politically active people in the world.
You could pick any day of the week in downtown San Francisco, whether it be a busy Saturday filled with tourists and shoppers, or a relatively quiet Wednesday morning, and you'll see people picketing outside their least favorite stores.
Outside Nieman Marcus? People handing out flyers about animal cruelty, and the immorality of wearing fur. NikeTown? Yeah, child labor. I heard. Gap on the corner of Powell and Market? Yeah, I hear they're having child labor issues as well. Kentucky Fried Chicken? Animal cruelty.
Wait, what?
Animal cruelty?
At a restaurant?
Now we're talking chicken. K-F fuckin' C.
They kill chicken to make fried chicken?
Now, I know there may be some treatment issues. Like free range vs. caged, etc. And mistreating animals is kind of fucked up. But honestly, is that a battle that really needs to be fought? Should people really put in time and effort into protecting animals that are specifically bred for consumption?
I mean, there are hundreds of human issues that seem thousands of times more worthwhile.
But oh well. There I go again, worrying about what other people do. Find something to worth living for or something worth dying for.
Credit, whoever the hell said that.
You could pick any day of the week in downtown San Francisco, whether it be a busy Saturday filled with tourists and shoppers, or a relatively quiet Wednesday morning, and you'll see people picketing outside their least favorite stores.
Outside Nieman Marcus? People handing out flyers about animal cruelty, and the immorality of wearing fur. NikeTown? Yeah, child labor. I heard. Gap on the corner of Powell and Market? Yeah, I hear they're having child labor issues as well. Kentucky Fried Chicken? Animal cruelty.
Wait, what?
Animal cruelty?
At a restaurant?
Now we're talking chicken. K-F fuckin' C.
They kill chicken to make fried chicken?
Now, I know there may be some treatment issues. Like free range vs. caged, etc. And mistreating animals is kind of fucked up. But honestly, is that a battle that really needs to be fought? Should people really put in time and effort into protecting animals that are specifically bred for consumption?
I mean, there are hundreds of human issues that seem thousands of times more worthwhile.
But oh well. There I go again, worrying about what other people do. Find something to worth living for or something worth dying for.
Credit, whoever the hell said that.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Oh shit, dude.
I just found one of those "Kill an hour doing absolutely nothing" websites.
Tinypic.com
Go to the site.
Click random.
Now you're surfing through a plethora of images.
Completely random images.
Sure, there's some porn.
But damn, there's some crazy shit, too.
Shit that'll make you laugh out loud.
And shit that'll make you say, "Ummm, huh?"
But yeah. You get the point. Enjoy.
I just found one of those "Kill an hour doing absolutely nothing" websites.
Tinypic.com
Go to the site.
Click random.
Now you're surfing through a plethora of images.
Completely random images.
Sure, there's some porn.
But damn, there's some crazy shit, too.
Shit that'll make you laugh out loud.
And shit that'll make you say, "Ummm, huh?"
But yeah. You get the point. Enjoy.
I did it again.
I went on one of those rampages through the Blogger world that I do from time to time.
I tried studying for one of my certification tests, but it just got boring.
So here I was clicking "Next Blog".
Over and over and over again.
I went around the world in 80 clicks.
Korea.
Singapore.
The Philippines.
Norway.
Austrailia.
Russia.
Saudi Arabia.
Could I read half of them?
Hell no.
And those are just the 13-year olds with fonts you simply can't read.
Or the people that choose to express themselves through written text but refuse to spell words in their entirety.
For the record,
"r" = "are".
Sure. I can dig it.
But for some people, "r" = "our", which is just plain retarded.
"lv" and "hv" are "love" and "have" respectively. Uhh. Okay. I'll still following.
Barely.
The use of "lol"...fine. I can deal with that.
But never...EVER...will I tolerate "lolz".
"lolz"?
What the fuck is that shit?
Is that the pluralization of "LOL"?
Can you even pluralize "LOL"?
Probably not.
Either way, it's intolerable.
I can dig stories, though.
Good stories, at least.
I also like journal/diary type entries.
Okay, maybe I don't.
I wouldn't bore you with an account of my past 24 hours that includes what I ate for breakfast and what Jane told me during lunch.
I REALLY like blogs that list open MP3 directories.
Those are awesome.
But, I absolutely dread blogs that have music autostart when the page loads.
That's just plain inconsiderate.
And a Java pop-up when the page load?
Fuck you.
Lots and lots of pictures?
Word.
Interesting wordplay?
Bring them on.
Colorful metaphors and vivid descriptions?
English is a beautiful language when put in the mouths of those who understand its power and beauty.
I guess it is safe to say that blogs can't please everbody.
Hell, some blogs can't please anybody.
But there's enough fun out there for everybody to enjoy.
And you knew that.
Awesome.
I went on one of those rampages through the Blogger world that I do from time to time.
I tried studying for one of my certification tests, but it just got boring.
So here I was clicking "Next Blog".
Over and over and over again.
I went around the world in 80 clicks.
Korea.
Singapore.
The Philippines.
Norway.
Austrailia.
Russia.
Saudi Arabia.
Could I read half of them?
Hell no.
And those are just the 13-year olds with fonts you simply can't read.
Or the people that choose to express themselves through written text but refuse to spell words in their entirety.
For the record,
"r" = "are".
Sure. I can dig it.
But for some people, "r" = "our", which is just plain retarded.
"lv" and "hv" are "love" and "have" respectively. Uhh. Okay. I'll still following.
Barely.
The use of "lol"...fine. I can deal with that.
But never...EVER...will I tolerate "lolz".
"lolz"?
What the fuck is that shit?
Is that the pluralization of "LOL"?
Can you even pluralize "LOL"?
Probably not.
Either way, it's intolerable.
I can dig stories, though.
Good stories, at least.
I also like journal/diary type entries.
Okay, maybe I don't.
I wouldn't bore you with an account of my past 24 hours that includes what I ate for breakfast and what Jane told me during lunch.
I REALLY like blogs that list open MP3 directories.
Those are awesome.
But, I absolutely dread blogs that have music autostart when the page loads.
That's just plain inconsiderate.
And a Java pop-up when the page load?
Fuck you.
Lots and lots of pictures?
Word.
Interesting wordplay?
Bring them on.
Colorful metaphors and vivid descriptions?
English is a beautiful language when put in the mouths of those who understand its power and beauty.
I guess it is safe to say that blogs can't please everbody.
Hell, some blogs can't please anybody.
But there's enough fun out there for everybody to enjoy.
And you knew that.
Awesome.
Sunday, January 30, 2005
"...feelin' confident, not to be confused with your cockiness.."
Last Tuesday night marked my final night of class at St. Mary's college of California.
That night, I presented my Senior Project. It was a project that I conducted at my workplace and was the design and implementation of a training procedure for new employees in my department. It was the end of a journey. And it was literally my coming out party. I was in my element. And after it was done, I felt a combination of relief and unadulterated joy. But it was the complete opposite of what I was going through the night before.
The night before, I was at work typing it all out and putting the finishing touches on it. I was scrambling to get done what I had over 6 months to work on. I got it all the documents together, noted the dividers for the attached appendices, three-hole punched each sheet of paper, and placed them in the binder. When I completed it, I held it in front of me and damn near cried. It was literally the culmination of what I had been working towards for the past 18 months. But now I'm done, and for that I'm thankful for.
As far as the presentation was concerned, I killed. It was enough where people felt compelled to stand up and applaud. I was amazed myself that it went as well as it did. I was the youngest person in the room by 10 years. But the way I handled myself, not only during the presentation, but the 18 months in class as well, placed me as a peer among my older and more experienced classmate. Not a week passed without a compliment from a classmate. It is because of that that I am especially proud.
Now I stand on top of the hill. The hill I was fighting to get to the top of for the past 18 months. At the top of this hill, I have an epiphany. This is only a foothill of the mountain I am about to work my way up. Wish me luck, and stand behind me in case I fall. Because I know I will. And I know you'll be there to pick me up, dust me off, and send me on my way.
Thanks.
Last Tuesday night marked my final night of class at St. Mary's college of California.
That night, I presented my Senior Project. It was a project that I conducted at my workplace and was the design and implementation of a training procedure for new employees in my department. It was the end of a journey. And it was literally my coming out party. I was in my element. And after it was done, I felt a combination of relief and unadulterated joy. But it was the complete opposite of what I was going through the night before.
The night before, I was at work typing it all out and putting the finishing touches on it. I was scrambling to get done what I had over 6 months to work on. I got it all the documents together, noted the dividers for the attached appendices, three-hole punched each sheet of paper, and placed them in the binder. When I completed it, I held it in front of me and damn near cried. It was literally the culmination of what I had been working towards for the past 18 months. But now I'm done, and for that I'm thankful for.
As far as the presentation was concerned, I killed. It was enough where people felt compelled to stand up and applaud. I was amazed myself that it went as well as it did. I was the youngest person in the room by 10 years. But the way I handled myself, not only during the presentation, but the 18 months in class as well, placed me as a peer among my older and more experienced classmate. Not a week passed without a compliment from a classmate. It is because of that that I am especially proud.
Now I stand on top of the hill. The hill I was fighting to get to the top of for the past 18 months. At the top of this hill, I have an epiphany. This is only a foothill of the mountain I am about to work my way up. Wish me luck, and stand behind me in case I fall. Because I know I will. And I know you'll be there to pick me up, dust me off, and send me on my way.
Thanks.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
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Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Phone sex.
It's the next level.
People think they're above it.
Not me.
I'm down.
I think someone's voice is a lot sexier than most realize.
It's more than just jacking off while on the phone.
It's an exercise of sexual fantasy.
Who's around?
No one.
Who can hear you?
Who cares?
Talking about what could happen?
Sexy.
Talking about what should happen?
Really sexy.
Don't sweat the technique.
Sometimes, you don't even have time to handle your business.
You're going to jack off anyway?
Why not share it with someone you love?
If not in person, why not over the phone?
Keep it different.
Keep it spicy.
Keep within the relationship.
The benefits outweigh the cost.
You can do it.
Call her on her way to work and put a make her giggle like a school girl.
Call him at work an make it so he can't get up from out of his desk for a while.
Think you got it in you?
It's the next level.
People think they're above it.
Not me.
I'm down.
I think someone's voice is a lot sexier than most realize.
It's more than just jacking off while on the phone.
It's an exercise of sexual fantasy.
Who's around?
No one.
Who can hear you?
Who cares?
Talking about what could happen?
Sexy.
Talking about what should happen?
Really sexy.
Don't sweat the technique.
Sometimes, you don't even have time to handle your business.
You're going to jack off anyway?
Why not share it with someone you love?
If not in person, why not over the phone?
Keep it different.
Keep it spicy.
Keep within the relationship.
The benefits outweigh the cost.
You can do it.
Call her on her way to work and put a make her giggle like a school girl.
Call him at work an make it so he can't get up from out of his desk for a while.
Think you got it in you?
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
It's kind of fun being in the job hunt again. Don't get it twisted. I don't hate my current job. I just like to keep my options open and leave room for improvement. I think at this stage in my life, with me finishing up school and 1 year completed at my first "real job", complacency is Public Enemy #1.
We get comfortable in our lives. It's natural. We as humans are very ritualistic. We like knowing what's going to happen next. But this desire to remain comfortable leaves us susceptible to stagnation. Being stagnant is the very last thing I want to experience at this stage in my life. I look at myself, how I am, and how I go about doing certain things, and I see a flawed human being living a flawed life. There is always room for improvement. But when we get to a specific comfort level, sometimes we fail to acknowledge these flaws. And if we do acknowledge them, we fail to take steps to repairing these flaws.
So now I'm back out there looking for ways to improve my situation. Now that a degree is literally days from being attained, I'm looking for a better, more rewarding job. I'm even considering going to graduate school to further pursue knowledge and wisdom. I really think that learning is a life-long journey, and once we give up on learning, we again, become complacent.
Things are good, but they definitely could be better. And they will be better.
Word.
We get comfortable in our lives. It's natural. We as humans are very ritualistic. We like knowing what's going to happen next. But this desire to remain comfortable leaves us susceptible to stagnation. Being stagnant is the very last thing I want to experience at this stage in my life. I look at myself, how I am, and how I go about doing certain things, and I see a flawed human being living a flawed life. There is always room for improvement. But when we get to a specific comfort level, sometimes we fail to acknowledge these flaws. And if we do acknowledge them, we fail to take steps to repairing these flaws.
So now I'm back out there looking for ways to improve my situation. Now that a degree is literally days from being attained, I'm looking for a better, more rewarding job. I'm even considering going to graduate school to further pursue knowledge and wisdom. I really think that learning is a life-long journey, and once we give up on learning, we again, become complacent.
Things are good, but they definitely could be better. And they will be better.
Word.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Something out of something.
There's this misconception that some people have in relation to these two men. Supposedly, these two men had opposing ideologies. One is perceived as a peaceful man who stood his grown through civil disobendience. The other was a more intimidating and forceful embodiment of the militant black civil rights movement.
During his days as a top minister within the ranks of Elijah Muhammed's Nation of Islam, Malcolm Little, then and now known as Malcolm X, never held his tongue when describing the work of anti-segregation activists, such as Dr. Martin Luther King. He described them as "Uncle Toms", today's equivalent of a "sell-out". He questioned why black men and women would want to integrate into a society that hates them. In order for there to be equality in America, Malcolm believed that the black community would need to rise up independently. Through empowerment and self-reliance, the black community could avoid racial inequality and bigotry on all levels. Dr. King, on the other hand, believed in civil disobedience. Through peaceful protest, slow and incremental changes would be made towards peace and equality.
It's easy to look at the beliefs of Malcolm X and see them as overly militant, or unnecessarily confrontational. It's easy for one to look at these two men and see Dr. King as a benevolent man with ideals that were more "friendly" to the rest of American society. But while we celebrate Dr. King this Monday, and Black History throughout the month of February, let us not forget the value of both of these two men. Although many perceive them as dueling opposites, it is important to see how the contributions of each man have proven to be invaluable to the civil rights movement.
Malcolm X stressed the importance of being empowered as minorities. No longer would people take oppression and discrimination with a smile. From that point on, there would be repercussions for such actions. These concepts were relatively unknown and unpracticed until Malcolm began his journey upwards through the ranks of the Nation of Islam. Many believed that what Malcolm taught was hatred, reverse racism, etc., but not many people understand what he really contributed.
But since this is afterall Dr. King's holiday, I will focus on what made him so special in relation to civil rights and the example he set. Dr. Martin Luther King believed in civil disobedience and carried himself and his protests accordingly. While Malcolm stressed a "by any means necessary" credo where the end justifies the means in the fight for equality, Dr. King embraced a mentality that not only does the end justify means, but the means were just in themselves. His acts were peaceful and benevolent in the same manner that his quest for justice and racial equality were peaceful and benevolent. It's a very special train of thought shared by another well known civil rights leader, Gandhi. We spend a lot of our time pursuing our goals without thinking about how we are going about achieving them. To many of us, the end is all that is important. But is that how we want to live our lives? If you get anything out of this holiday, try to understand what Dr. Martin Luther King stood for and try to incorporate some of the great ideologies that he set forward.
So after all is said and done, one of these men will always have this negative stigma associated with his name and his beliefs, another will always have an American holiday. I may be seem just or unjust, depending on who you talk to, but there is no doubt in my mind that both men are integral parts of the civil rights movement. Their concepts and ideologies will remain with us even after we do finally come to a state known as equality. There are people out there that believe that Dr. King is someone to be celebrated. But I'm not too sure many people out there know why they should be celebrating.
Enlighten yourself. The means justify themselves.
There's this misconception that some people have in relation to these two men. Supposedly, these two men had opposing ideologies. One is perceived as a peaceful man who stood his grown through civil disobendience. The other was a more intimidating and forceful embodiment of the militant black civil rights movement.
During his days as a top minister within the ranks of Elijah Muhammed's Nation of Islam, Malcolm Little, then and now known as Malcolm X, never held his tongue when describing the work of anti-segregation activists, such as Dr. Martin Luther King. He described them as "Uncle Toms", today's equivalent of a "sell-out". He questioned why black men and women would want to integrate into a society that hates them. In order for there to be equality in America, Malcolm believed that the black community would need to rise up independently. Through empowerment and self-reliance, the black community could avoid racial inequality and bigotry on all levels. Dr. King, on the other hand, believed in civil disobedience. Through peaceful protest, slow and incremental changes would be made towards peace and equality.
It's easy to look at the beliefs of Malcolm X and see them as overly militant, or unnecessarily confrontational. It's easy for one to look at these two men and see Dr. King as a benevolent man with ideals that were more "friendly" to the rest of American society. But while we celebrate Dr. King this Monday, and Black History throughout the month of February, let us not forget the value of both of these two men. Although many perceive them as dueling opposites, it is important to see how the contributions of each man have proven to be invaluable to the civil rights movement.
Malcolm X stressed the importance of being empowered as minorities. No longer would people take oppression and discrimination with a smile. From that point on, there would be repercussions for such actions. These concepts were relatively unknown and unpracticed until Malcolm began his journey upwards through the ranks of the Nation of Islam. Many believed that what Malcolm taught was hatred, reverse racism, etc., but not many people understand what he really contributed.
But since this is afterall Dr. King's holiday, I will focus on what made him so special in relation to civil rights and the example he set. Dr. Martin Luther King believed in civil disobedience and carried himself and his protests accordingly. While Malcolm stressed a "by any means necessary" credo where the end justifies the means in the fight for equality, Dr. King embraced a mentality that not only does the end justify means, but the means were just in themselves. His acts were peaceful and benevolent in the same manner that his quest for justice and racial equality were peaceful and benevolent. It's a very special train of thought shared by another well known civil rights leader, Gandhi. We spend a lot of our time pursuing our goals without thinking about how we are going about achieving them. To many of us, the end is all that is important. But is that how we want to live our lives? If you get anything out of this holiday, try to understand what Dr. Martin Luther King stood for and try to incorporate some of the great ideologies that he set forward.
So after all is said and done, one of these men will always have this negative stigma associated with his name and his beliefs, another will always have an American holiday. I may be seem just or unjust, depending on who you talk to, but there is no doubt in my mind that both men are integral parts of the civil rights movement. Their concepts and ideologies will remain with us even after we do finally come to a state known as equality. There are people out there that believe that Dr. King is someone to be celebrated. But I'm not too sure many people out there know why they should be celebrating.
Enlighten yourself. The means justify themselves.
Friday, December 31, 2004
As posted on Muscle68.Blogspot.com:
I watch porn.
Fuck it.
No shame in it.
I can talk about watching porn, too.
Ryan watches porn.
Savannah Samson, right Ryan? I'll send you those vids eventually.
I'm married.
Yes. We have sex.
Is it enough sex?
I don't think there is such thing as "enough" when it comes to sex.
I wake up wanting to have sex.
And when I don't get it, I jack off.
While watching porn.
It seems demented.
But is it?
I mean, I don't download all this porn just to watch it.
I spank my monkey while watching it.
I choke the chicken to it.
And now my wife watches it with me.
Which is good and bad at the same time.
Because now, I really notice it when the girl has had a really bad boob job.
Or how badly women of "Ethnicity" are stereotyped to the point where it's laughable because apparently someone thinks that all Asian pornstars should speak like the prostitutes in "Full Metal Jacket" and get off on it.
Or when a girl sucks a dick that was just inside her ass and the possible health issues that could ensue.
And I can no longer get off when the girl turns backwards towards the camera and says "Put it in my ass".
Why can I no longer enjoy this once simple porn pleasure?
Because of all the times my wife rolled her eyes and laughed at the corniness of the situation.
I've become a porn critic.
Is there such a thing?
I mean, damn. I used to be able to jack off to the fist 5 minutes of "Silk Stalkings".
And before that, I used to be able to jack off to the lingerie section in the latest Macy's Sunday ad.
But those times are gone.
It's literally right at our finger tips.
Anyone can download an infinite amount of porn.
I'm not complaining.
It seems all positive to me.
But I can see how porn has noticeably demented my perception of what sex "should" be.
Like how I wouldn't mind busting my load on her face or on her tits.
Or how foreplay only consists of transit train fast cunnilingus and/or fellatio, followed by some clit stroking and a jamming of one or two digits lubricated by spit.
Sexy.
But I'll keep watching.
Like I said, I have no shame.
There's no need to hide my desire to constantly release semen.
What started as our species inate desire to propagate our genes throughout the gene pool has led to hours upon hours of porn and masturbation.
Awesome.
With that said, Warriors > Grizz.
I watch porn.
Fuck it.
No shame in it.
I can talk about watching porn, too.
Ryan watches porn.
Savannah Samson, right Ryan? I'll send you those vids eventually.
I'm married.
Yes. We have sex.
Is it enough sex?
I don't think there is such thing as "enough" when it comes to sex.
I wake up wanting to have sex.
And when I don't get it, I jack off.
While watching porn.
It seems demented.
But is it?
I mean, I don't download all this porn just to watch it.
I spank my monkey while watching it.
I choke the chicken to it.
And now my wife watches it with me.
Which is good and bad at the same time.
Because now, I really notice it when the girl has had a really bad boob job.
Or how badly women of "Ethnicity" are stereotyped to the point where it's laughable because apparently someone thinks that all Asian pornstars should speak like the prostitutes in "Full Metal Jacket" and get off on it.
Or when a girl sucks a dick that was just inside her ass and the possible health issues that could ensue.
And I can no longer get off when the girl turns backwards towards the camera and says "Put it in my ass".
Why can I no longer enjoy this once simple porn pleasure?
Because of all the times my wife rolled her eyes and laughed at the corniness of the situation.
I've become a porn critic.
Is there such a thing?
I mean, damn. I used to be able to jack off to the fist 5 minutes of "Silk Stalkings".
And before that, I used to be able to jack off to the lingerie section in the latest Macy's Sunday ad.
But those times are gone.
It's literally right at our finger tips.
Anyone can download an infinite amount of porn.
I'm not complaining.
It seems all positive to me.
But I can see how porn has noticeably demented my perception of what sex "should" be.
Like how I wouldn't mind busting my load on her face or on her tits.
Or how foreplay only consists of transit train fast cunnilingus and/or fellatio, followed by some clit stroking and a jamming of one or two digits lubricated by spit.
Sexy.
But I'll keep watching.
Like I said, I have no shame.
There's no need to hide my desire to constantly release semen.
What started as our species inate desire to propagate our genes throughout the gene pool has led to hours upon hours of porn and masturbation.
Awesome.
With that said, Warriors > Grizz.