Activism Is Dead

Rosa Parks died yesterday. Yes God bless and all of that. Everybody else is saying it.

But her passing made me think that there is has been no one born in the past 45 years that will be mourned in the black community for actually trying to advance the social station of African-Americans. Forget African-Americans. Everybody's station in life really could be much better. In the wake of the fact that we could have saved $20 billion dollars if we used generic drugs instead of name brands, life is much harder than it needs to be. No one cares about anything anymore. When senators and congressmen die, they'll be remembered for the bridge they helped build in their home district, not for making life better (although their traffic contributions are immeasurable).

I think medicine will be a waste of my time. As my profile (previous posts people, keep up) mentions, I take on the affairs of the oppressed and downtrodden. That's what I'm going to do. I want to cut the rate of African-American males going to prison. I want to increase the rate of matriculation and graduation amongst minorities in higher education. I want people to understand the importance of true mental health. And there's a bunch that I'm missing. But I want to make it better. This world sucks and you people need to realize it. Then we can make it sweet.

Bonus Accuracy

Another test

And my result.

Pretty Darn Accurate

So I'm procrastinating and trying to get out of the fact that my job is killing me (literally beacuse I think I pulled a calf or sprained an ankle or both). Excited cause Drizzle sent me a e-mail and it seems she discovered why we went through what we went through. So I did the darn test and as usual, she was right. The results are pretty accurate.

Here's the test

Here are my results and more results.

Seriously

I have a fucking wonderful life. There is no reason for me to feel the way I do. No reason for me to dread waking up. No reason for me to avoid the contact of the real world. Let's honestly count up the positives. I have no serious health issues. There is money in my bank account. There is shelter over my head. There is food in my pantry and in my fridge. Most of all, I have an amazing, loving family. The bonus is that I have an amazing network of friends that no MySpace or Hi5 page can ever come close too.

Over the past day, I've had people tell me what a great friend I am, what an active listener I am, how awesome I am. Not to sound cocky or anything, but they're right. I am a good person. Plus, I have a good, solid noggin on my shoulders. I have a wonderful life. And I haven't even been to to the tip of the iceberg yet. I need to get over myself and just get cracking. There is so much I can accomplish. I have to stop worrying about getting it just right. Or else I'll stay at just okay when whatever I do, as long as I'm trying, will be utterly fantastic.

This needs to be the last time I have some grand affirmation about my life. It's time I just do the damn thing and work towards being the even more amazing, wonderful individual that God wants me to be. Thank you Lord for blogging to help me remember this spot exactly.

Live At Lenheim Hall

The Lord blesses in unexpected ways sometimes. To help keep me up at my marathon overnight sessions at front desks, He's sent me numerous conversations that keep me engaged and alert. For the second week in a row, I've spoken extensively with my former acquaintance/new friend Bassline.

But as we talked, we got comfortable and soon it was the two of us in chairs across from each other. As our conversation progressed, another one of our friends, Plato, came and joined us. Then we had a guest panelist in the form of another friend's visiting brother.

So four, young, educated brothers discussing the many issues of life. Mainly it was about the conundrum of women and all it entails. We also talked about dating outside the race and its subsequential caveats. But we also discussed the pros as opposed to sticking with our beautiful Black women. Quite the enjoyable conversation.

What mainly came out of our discussion was the fact that West Indian men have one of the worst positions in history. We hate everyone. Because of our origins, we've interacted with every type of people and they've all shafted us. Indian, Asian, Black, White. In addition, because of our station in life, the West Indian man has had to struggle and is self made. But because of that, he maintains the position that he can do better. A mansion, top notch kids, and a beautiful, doting wife and he would roll over in bed and say "I could do better." And that sentiment sticks with us and corrupts our thinking in every thing we do.

Ah such is life.

So Why Am I Always In A Depressed Mood Bout This Time

Without fail, in the fall I seem to slow down. I usually have some sort of resolve in September to reach my potential once and for all. The 10th month comes around and I don't feel like doing much of anything. I really don't care about anything. I just want to sleep. I occupy with stuff that is so inconsequential (i.e. blogs and MySpace) yet cannot handle doing the things that really matter which currently includes Organic Chemistry, Law School applications, and making sure I don't die before the age of 30. I swear I should be on antidepressants. Or maybe I should alter my diet. My grandfather has said that since he stopped eating meat, his lustful desires and impulses to rage out have waned. Maybe I just need to drop the meat. Maybe I just need to stop feeling sorry for myself. Maybe I should pray. I got Jesus music on right now so that should pick me up.

Are You Gelling?

Just checking

I Will Not Steal Pumpkins

I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins. I Will Not Steal Pumpkins.

If you're wondering about my little mantra, it is true that in the past I have stolen pumpkins. This 6'3" black male has been known to run to doorsteps and house pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns round this time of year.

Why would one do such things? Well the answer is multifaceted, as most explanations are when dealing with me. One reason is because it seems like some missed boyhood rite I missed out on living in the city. One of the intriguing things about living in the middle of nowhere is actually seeing Main Street, this concept that the media has bemoaned the loss of. It just seems American. Another reason is the adrenaline rush. Last year, one of my chosen sites had a group of very possessive dogs. Let's just say that mission was unsuccessful. I did learn I would have survived the civil rights era because of my ability to outrun dogs and jump in moving vehicles. Lastly, it was just fun, a release from the responsibility that I am constantly trying to avoid.

And this is the main reason I need to stop. As I have actually taken the initiative to move out and pay bills on my own, stealing pumpkins just seems like a step backwards. I mean I've gone from being "Hey I have no cash for the movies" broke to being "Hey do I really need to get that drink because if I open the fridge, the light being on might be the kilowatt that pushes my electrical bill over the top" broke. And seriously my house is a mess already. housing pumpkins is something I'm not equipped to do.

Alas a part of me already misses it. But my childishness can be supported by the cartoon DVDs that I will continue to buy and the kids I work with, who wonderfully keep me in touch with my inner 11 year old, when they're not getting in holds. I won't miss the smell when they rot though.

Yeah....I'm Gonna Die

Today, I couldn't breathe. Once again, my cough is starting to act up. Two parts of my tongue tingle when I eat. My teeth are all sensitive. My head feels cloudy. I'm gonna die. So I'm thinking it's time to reorganize my life. So goodbye to all those practices that debilitate my health. You know the free living and the constant computer stuff. Goodbye to stressing over things I have no control over. Hello God. Haven't talked to you in a while. I'm too young and too pretty to be going out like this. I haven't even had a real quarterlife crisis yet. So I'm actually going to make a schedule and follow it. I think I'll start paying attention to myself, because worrying about everyone else has me missing my slow death. And taking those vitamins my momma sent me. I'm going to die. Just not yet

(Can't) Let Go

Along the early course of Drizzle's spiritual reawakening, she shared a verse that blew her mind. I understood the deepness but didn't fully appreciate it. Until lately. Jeremiah 17:9 (NIV): The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?

Through my own experiences and the travails of others I have realized the seriousness of that question. Who the hell can understand it? Somehow the heart can develop attachments without you knowing it. Severing those attachments sometimes are near impossible. Even when you logically know that it isn't the thing for you to do. The universe might send you hundreds of cosmic signs to corroborate everything your mind is saying. Yet the heart just can't let things die. Or lets things go that would be beneficial due to its unkwnown desires.

It has plagued me lately. The heart is just insane. Another version says that it's "desperately wicked." That seems apropriate because what other entity would try to bring down the very thing that is keeping it alive.

Kindness Pays

Front desk: The source of my greatest creativity and the location of my moments of clarity was today also the source of an unexpected monetary blessing.

So I'm fighting sleep by taking a little walk when I notice a frantic figure on her way up the walkway. I leisurely stroll back to my post. And this woman explains that she needs to curl her hair. Of course the one public bathroom we have has no mirror. But there in my creativity, I remember we had guest room keys. Now I expected no reward. I just knew the plight of the black woman and her hair. But when she came back out, she slipped me a five spot.

Now that's what I call a Happy Sabbath

Melanin 2.0

At front desk, I was having an unexpected conversation with my new buddy Bassline and my twin (not name-worthy ready just yet; give him some time). But it ranged all over the place. How the devil really doesn't get involved in individual problems any more and the backwardness of the country. But we started talking about backwardness and we came around to African-Americans. It wasn't a bashing session but rather an airing of frustration over the ignorance of the community. There's a desire to encourage a sameness when our diversity is what makes us so beautiful.

Anyway, after the twin left, Bassline was telling me that his old Jamaican grandmother told him to breakup with his white girlfriend. After worship!!!! And that he should get with a light skinned black girl. Isn't that employing the same kind of racism? That light skinned black girl was the product of some white person getting down with a black one.

Heaven is not going to be some segregated place so why am I just chilling with my "own", who funny enough make fun of me when I don't speak like them or dress a different way. I makes no sense. if the girl of my dreams happens to come in a vanilla shell, caramel, molasses, or butterscotch (I'm hungry), I can't discriminate cause all I'll eat is toffee. The palate is made to appreciate a variety and I'm not limiting myself for some other idiots' expectations

Oh To Be Rich

Mom sent me a care package last week, but I have to question how much she cares. Included in said package, along with my favorite cookies and loads of vitamins I should be taking, were fashion magazines focused on the haberdashery of the male. And the clothes were beautiful. If joseph's coat had anything on these beauties, then he would have been my best friend. Especially during the famine.

But with high end fashion comes high end prices. And then I got sad cause when will I have the funds to make such wonderful threads part of my own wardrobe. Is the Burberry trench destined to be a pipe dream? Will I ever get to stand awkwardly, praying for pins to miss my skin as I am fitted for my own custom bespoke suit? Oh such is life. So somehow I'm thinking I move back to the city and be a pet to a personal shopper or someone linked into fashion that can pass along the benefits.

Or I actually get off my ass and do something with my life so I can make an income that allows me one or two of those luxuries. Oh what will win?

They Don't Do It Like They Used To

Me and my buddy Beastmaster were having a random conversation, with topics lasting no longer than seven minutes. Somehow we got to discussing - probably Beast's theology major creeping up - how back in the olden days of the Israelites, guys used to actually rip goats apart. I don't remember the passage in the Bible but there's one point where the dude literally tears the animal apart. I mean that's crazy. It's one thing to break a wall. That's just plaster or brick. Plus it's stationary. But to stop a living, breathing creature and tear it, literally, limb from limb. That is insane. When did we lose that strength, that amazing masculinity? Has the technology age made us bitches? The answer is probably yes.

Amigos

Once again I am here at front desk procrastinating, doing nothing special at all. Then my RA pal Beastmaster comes through, says some funny thing, and then leaves. But then he back tracks and asks if everything is okay. I didn't realize I looked so forlorn and honestly at that moment, I did feel a bit sad. So I replied I was so-so. And then he said we should pray together at some point, something we did semi-regularly when we were both RA's. Then he made some funny comment, I made one, and he was off.

And as I write this I have tears in my eyes. Not because I am especially depressed, but rather because I am so moved the Lord could impress on him how I was feeling. It truly is an amazing thing.

Being up at this school has afforded me so many blessings. One of the greatest I have realized is the value of quality interactions. I think growing up a shy, only child that absorbed information, I secretly craved friends and just regular contact. That's why I have few, real hardcore friendships. I go all out for my friends because they mean so much to me. I probably go further than necessary for people I consider celebrated acquaintances. Those interactions are so important to me I can't really explain it. I save every IM conversation obsessively just for that reason. It's like I need that reminder that I have experienced it and how much I enjoyed it.

Sometimes I'm saddened to think how many friendships I missed since most of my pre-teen and high school years were spent in a self-induced hibernation, but I'm glad for the ones I have now cause I'm that much more appreciative.

Heaven/Hell

The first 12.5 hours of work today were wonderfully pleasant. I overcame our invisible staff member and the interactions with the kids were pretty good. There were some incidents but surprisingly tame.

Then I went to the gym, an assignment I particularly bathe but surprisingly it was still pretty good. Until the end. One kid starts throwing balls directly at another. The other one strikes back and a struggle ensues. All hell breaks loose. I've got four kids in a gym with two overheated, another one ready to blow, and a fourth ready to cry at any moment. I swore I wasn't coming back like Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now. Finally get my supervisor when one kid decides to run away. So now I'm Michael Johnson and have to put him in a hold on the cold pavement.

Yeesh! When I got back and things calmed down, I got to joke with my favorite kid and co-worker and I was cracking jokes forever. So that was heaven to go with the hell. I still needed self-medication to cope though.

Am I Really Dismissive?

After my happy Sabbath day, I hoped to continue the good fortune into nightfall. So I'm talking with Kate, her mom, her (we'll say) cousin and a friend of mine and Boy Wonder's. Somehow we end up talking about how jacked up the country is. And I made the remark that the new Supreme Court is probably going to make abortion illegal. Kate said that it won't happen. And even if it did there would be an uproar. Are you kidding me?

There will be six conservative leaning justices. If they vote for it, how the hell are things going to change that decision. Kate "People will be harassing Congress to change it." Even if the majority of congress was pro-abortion, they can't pass laws for it once they declare it unconstitutional. You have to pass an amendment and last I checked the Congress and state legislatures you need to approve such a measure are still mostly anti-abortion. "But it's an issue for everybody." Yeah those auburbanites' daughters are getting them, but they don't want to believe that they are. Denial is the only river that flows through every state in the union and as long as food is on the table, the minivan has a loaded tank, and Bobby & Kimmie's teachers aren't raping them but getting them to read, well everything is gravy. If there's going to be a bloody uproar if abortion goes out the window, then Dubya wouldn't be in office in the first place. The issue is so far down on people's priority lists, it might as well not exist.

And I told her this. And I said she was wrong. Which she is. Her naive idealism and passion are very attractive features. I think that's what drew me in the most when we dated. But isn't it better to crush the stupidity early so that the disappointment is not as great later? Plus it encourages one to develop well thought out positions and not heat of the moment empty rancor. Call me dismissive if you want, but I'm a necessary evil.

Shabbat Shalom

If this first day of the month is indicative of the following ones, October is going to be mighty fine. I woke up lazily in my warm room. Went out to the warm sunshine only to be accosted by French (or Creole) shouting. But it was just Mummy Shu, Kate's mom and wife of my landlord. So we had a lovely laughing conversation. Then it was off to the bak where I spoke with the friendly teller. Then my momma sent me a care package with my favorite cookies and vitamins. I took a walk to the grocery store and got some necessities.

But finally I took off all my clothes, save for my visor and sweatpants, and just chilled. Rediscovered some old gospel tapes I grew up on and had a praise party as I sat out on my deck. I should have been organizing my stuff or doing something else more constructive but the Sabbath is about rest and that is what I did. How fantastic!