Friday, February 26, 2010

There is nothing either good or bad...

...but thinking makes it so.

Just discovered this quote from Hamlet. Isn't that just a fancier way of saying "It is what it is?" Weird--I'm noticing this pattern in my blog where I keep offering up new ways of saying shit. Maybe I should just create a new language. Be sure to click foto and read Stripe Savage's advice.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

The Illest Brother Claims Respect

Much has been written about that AC Transit bus fight so I won't grandstand, but I did want to share some thoughts. It's hardly surprising but always disheartening to see an event like this unleash all the message board hate. I'm not sure how one fight between two dumbasses tells you that it's OK to share how much you hate all black people. The message board haters are like those public restroom scrawlers; their crudely etched graffiti is always to your right and left but it's best to ignore it and look straight ahead at the stall door; or read a newspaper if you're lucky enough to have one. Anyhow, taking race out of it, it's clear that Epic Beard Man is crazy and the other guy ignored that fact.

Firstly, as much as everyone likes to make the argument that E.B.M. walked to the front of the bus after the initial verbal exchange, he was trying to stir shit up no question. One thing that remains unclear to me is who brought up the shoe shine first. I've heard from people that it was the black dude (Michael) and others that it was the white dude; but every video I've seen starts with E.B.M. saying "how much to spit shine these Stacey Adams? I've got a funeral to go to tomorrow." Did Michael comment that he needed a shoeshine? That's what I've been told but that seems highly unlikely.

Nextly, even if E.B.M. did bring up the shoeshine, everything about E.B.M. should have told Michael that he didn't wanna step to E.B.M. Clearly unstable and unafraid and with nothing to lose, E.B.M. would have scared off just about anyone else. Now, here's where I think race--or I should say circumstance or background--might have played a role; this is going to sound presumptuous coming from a middle-class white dude, but I think if you come from a hardscrabble neighborhood, it's important to not be publicly perceived as a punk. If you're seen as weak, you'll be eaten alive--and you're not certainly not claiming respect. That's where the title of this posting (one of my favorite Gang Starr songs) comes from. MIght makes right or survival of the fittest are two aphorisms you might be more familiar with.

Even taking the code of the streets into consideration, I think Michael was ready to let it go after E.B.M. went to the front of the bus and even after E.B.M. continued to mouth off; but once the instigating shit-talker, Lyanna Washington (the girl sitting next to Michael), chimed in and told him to go beat E.B.M.'s ass, all bets are off. I also just learned that Michael was drunk. Big development. Anyhow, when you see Michael approach E.B.M., it's clear he hasn't fully committed himself to the task at hand. Michael isn't a tough guy--he didn't want to fight but he felt like he had to, thanks to Lyanna. He throws a harmlessly half-hearted right jab at E.B.M. and the rangy 67-year-old immediately responds with a surprisingly accurate series of haymakers.

So there you have it. All of these factors taken as a whole you can see how that shit went down. Any other day Michael would've just put on the headphones and ignored him. Without the alcohol and Lyanna Washington it never would've happened. Not to discount personal responsibility, but I almost feel sorry for Michael. He ran into a perfect storm; and there's no rainbow at the end of this one; just Epic Beard Man waiting for you with his hardened knuckles--ready to teach some hard lessons.

Wow--turns out I did grandstand. Anyhow, be sure to check out Gang Starr's Daily Operation. One of the finest rap albums ever produced. Check this video of "Mass Appeal" (from another album)

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Croc of Shit?

Or are these new Crocs THE shit? I think they're kinda tight actually. I'm gonna pick up a pair of those light tan ones or the hospital scrub color ones. Nice way to distinguish yourself from the flip-flop wearing clowns when you step out to the corner store. Shit these might work for the office... or even da club!

Wow, looks like my blog has officially entered the realm of grade-B B.S... that was some twitter-like drivel right there. But don't abandon me just now. I'll be back in mid-season form soon enough. Real recognize real. Respect.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Surreal

Is "surreal" the most overused word in America? I've been journalizing about the experience of having my daughter and I was thinking back to the day she was born and my drive from work to the hospital. The first word I thought to use to describe how I felt was "surreal." But then I was thinking, "man, that is a played-out word." So I went out of my way not to use it. I came up with something like this: On the way to the hospital, I was feeling very strange; it was a tangled mix of very intense, heightened emotions; anxious, fearful, stressed, and most importantly, excited; excited to finally meet YOU!" Not much better. Maybe it would be better to use other words we associate with "surreal." Maybe "Dali?"

The birth of my daughter was so Dali it felt like an out-of-body experience.

Nah--doesn't work--guess we're stuck with "surreal."

Reminds me of this conversation I had with a bunch of coworkers about the movie Brazil. I maintained that it was a shitty movie and everyone just went into attack-mode; "What?! That movie's brilliant; it should be a litmus test;" "C'mon, Porter, don't you get it? That movie is surreal." You remember that Jayson Matthews? That story was for you!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

DP Confessional of Callousness

I once had a housemate back in my nicoise salad days who I'll call Jeanette. We had dated very briefly before she moved into my apartment. There was absolutely no spark between us so we just started hanging out as friends. There wasn't much of a platonic connection either; I think we both were just very lonely and lost and unhappy so we bonded over that. So one time we go out to dinner at Barney's and we're eating our burgers and our deep-fried vegetable basket and I remarked to her that I liked her sister whom I'd just met. I said that she seemed so much different than her (basically a more outgoing and confident and fun version of her although I didn't use those exact words). So the conversation begins to segue to her personality and why she is the way she is, i.e., guarded and an "empty vessel" as my friend called her after he met her. She then asks me "I'll tell you why I'm like this but I have to warn you I'm going to cry." I told her that maybe she shouldn't tell me. Although in my defense I think I did say you can tell me another time.

Whenever I tell this story people always say how fucked up that was of me. What do you d-bags think? I personally agree. Very cold and heartless. Pubic displays of humanity and emotion scare me. If we had been at home, no problem. Anyhow, beyond me being a huge a-hole, what do you think the story was? I never did find out. Was it sexual abuse of some kind? Had to be, right? Wow--in that moment I am a colossally callous cocksucker. I'll grant you that.