Another Work in Progress

As humans, we are constantly evolving physically, mentally, and spiritually; over the course of our own lives, and over the course of history. We are all works in progress, and then we die.

 Wow that was harsh...here's a picture of a baby chick and a kitten!

As a writer, you constantly revise and attempt to improve your work; stories are constantly changing and evolving over time. Eventually though, you have to let them go; give the stories to the public in a finalized form. You don't want to end up like George Lucas with Star Wars and ruining a good thing. You have to let your work die, and if it's good, it will live on with the audience.
Well, I'm not ready to let this next story die yet, it's just another work in progress (hey, that's the name of this post, I love when that happens!).
My idea is to have this illustrated, but my experience with illustrators has been horrendous.  Who knows, maybe it could be animated...dream big, right? I always do.

"Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants." (c) <<<< that's real you infringers you! 

This guy has star quality written all over him!

I've been working on the story for a long time, but haven't looked at it in a while. I've only shared it with a few people. I actually tried it out a couple times when I was subbing at a middle school in East Hartford. As you'll see, each line repeats in a progression (until the end). I had each kid read one line, the same line, all the way through. That age group is the intended audience, and it's meant to be read out loud (try it!) so it went over well. I think that's a good sign, but then again, they're just dumb kids.

I emphasize peer review in my college classes because I believe it is really beneficial. I'd really appreciate any feedback, especially from people with experience with middle school aged kids (not the Sandusky kind of experience with middle school aged kids).

I have my issues with the story, but I don't want to influence your opinions. However, there is a part of me that thinks this could actually work as a cartoon. I mean look at this guy:

Why wouldn't they pay me a million dollars to make this story into the next Disney 3D megahit?
Or at least like a hundred grand to make it into a book...I'm not greedy.

Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants

Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

He Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

During the Day He Devoured Delicious Dandies,

And Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

Andy Eats Everything but it’s Never Ever Enough.

During the Day He Devoured Delicious Dandies,

And Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

Furry Andy Fancies Filling His Face with Fluff.

Andy Eats Everything but it’s Never Ever Enough.

During the Day He Devoured Delicious Dandies,

And Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

He Gave Himself Gas From Guzzling Ginger Ale.

Furry Andy Fancies Filling His Face with Fluff.

Andy Eats Everything but it’s Never Ever Enough.

During the Day He Devoured Delicious Dandies,

And Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

Hershey’s and Ho-Ho’s Make Him Hungry and Wag His Happy Tail,

He Gave Himself Gas From Guzzling Ginger Ale.

Furry Andy Fancies Filling His Face with Fluff.

Andy Eats Everything but it’s Never Ever Enough.

During the Day He Devoured Delicious Dandies,

And Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

“Insects Are Icky, I Have No Interest.” Instead,

Hershey’s and Ho-Ho’s Make Him Hungry and Wag His Happy Tail,

He Gave Himself Gas From Guzzling Ginger Ale.

Furry Andy Fancies Filling His Face with Fluff.

Andy Eats Everything but it’s Never Ever Enough.

During the Day He Devoured Delicious Dandies,

And Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

“Jam and Jiggly Jello Make Me Jump for Joy,” he said.

“Insects Are Icky, I Have No Interest.” Instead,

Hershey’s and Ho-Ho’s Make Him Hungry and Wag His Happy Tail,

He Gave Himself Gas From Guzzling Ginger Ale.

Furry Andy Fancies Filling His Face with Fluff.

Andy Eats Everything but it’s Never Ever Enough.

During the Day He Devoured Delicious Dandies,

And Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

“I Am Too Kind to Kill Katie the Katydid,

Jam and Jiggly Jello Make Me Jump for Joy,” he said.

“Insects Are Icky, I Have No Interest.” Instead,

Hershey’s and Ho-Ho’s Make Him Hungry and Wag His Happy Tail,

He Gave Himself Gas From Guzzling Ginger Ale.

Furry Andy Fancies Filling His Face with Fluff.

Andy Eats Everything but it’s Never Ever Enough.

During the Day He Devoured Delicious Dandies,

And Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

“I Like Licking Lollipops Not Daddy Long Legs,

I Am Too Kind to Kill Katie the Katydid,

Jam and Jiggly Jello Make Me Jump for Joy,” he said.

Insects Are Icky, I Have No Interest.” Instead,

Hershey’s and Ho-Ho’s Make Him Hungry and Wag His Happy Tail,

He Gave Himself Gas From Guzzling Ginger Ale.

Furry Andy Fancies Filling His Face with Fluff.

Andy Eats Everything but it’s Never Ever Enough.

During the Day He Devoured Delicious Dandies,

And Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

“I’d Much Rather Munch Marshmallows Than Munch on Ant Heads.

I Like Licking Lollipops Not Daddy Long Legs,

I Am Too Kind to Kill Katie the Katydid,

Jam and Jiggly Jello Make Me Jump for Joy,” He Said.

Insects Are Icky, I Have No Interest.” Instead,

Hershey’s and Ho-Ho’s Make Him Hungry and Wag His Happy Tail,

He Gave Himself Gas From Guzzling Ginger Ale.

Furry Andy Fancies Filling His Face with Fluff.

Andy Eats Everything but it’s Never Ever Enough.

During the Day He Devoured Delicious Dandies,

And Chewed on Cheesecake, Caramels and Cotton Candy.

Billy his Big Brother Bellowed, “You Can’t!”

But Andy the Anteater Ate Anything but Ants.

  

“Never Have I Seen Such Nasty Nutrition!

You’re Out of Order!” came His Mother’s Objection.

Andy’s Pal Paulie, the Portly Platypus,

Passed Andy Popcorn, and Put It Like This:

“You’re Quite a Queer Creature!” He Quipped with His Quacker,

“You’re Really a Rarity!” He Roared Out with Laughter,

“I’ve Never Seen Such a Super Silly Snacker!”

“To Me, Tiny Termites Are Not Tasty Fun,

What Terrible Things to Have Touch My Tongue!

Under No Circumstances…I’ll Up-Chuck…Uh-uhh!

I Do Not Value Those Very Vile Varmints.

I Want a Waffle, With Whipped Cream On It.”

“Except,” Paulie Exclaimed, “Now There’s Extra Ants.

We Need An Exterminator To Exit These Ants From My Pants!”

“Stop Your Yammering. Are You Done Yet?

Yogurt Is Yummy, And I Like…YIKES!”

Zip! A Zillion Ants Zoomed In on His Zesty Treats with Zeal,

Then They Zoomed Off, Leaving Zany Andy with Zilch for a Meal.

  

 I Love You All (And I Appreciate Your Feedback, Positive or Negative)...Class Dismissed.

MORE TIME PART 2

The semester has begun, so I'm now working an extra 6 hours a week, not including time for planning and corrections, which makes up the majority of my responsibilities as Professor, and consequently takes the most of my precious time. This does not bode well for my request. On top of everything, I just received a reminder of how fat I have become, and now I need to add exercise to my list of things to do (right after I finish Season 2 of Breaking Bad, Sons of Anarchy, and Dexter). I try to eat well, but mostly it comes down to what is convenient and affordable. I make attempts to improve my diet, but exercise is much more crucial to me at this point. I've stopped eating mammals and I've considerably eased up on snacks (unless you count ice cream as a snack; it falls under "vital dairy product" for me) but I really need to exercise more. Take a look at this picture.

That's me on the right, in the middle of a seizure. Now, I know that most people tend to gain weight as they age, so that needs to be taken into account. Also, you have to keep in mind that my diet at that time consisted of Ramen Noodles, grilled cheese, cheap pasta (occasionally with sauce), corn-dogs from New Orleans Arena, and Hurricanes. Lots of Hurricanes. Not only did I not have money to spend on food containing nutrients that stayed in my system longer than 12 hours, but at that time of my life, I didn't need nutrition to survive. I don't know how I survived, actually. Probably on pure adrenaline and Bacardi.

Anyways, as I stated previously, I am making a triumphant return to the Big Easy, 10 years after I first visited, and 9 years after I lived there for 3 months (when this pic was taken). When my friend sent me the photo, I was shocked. I wasn't shocked that my friend and New Orleans roommate Nick Jake was wearing a light blue fisherman's Kangol, or that my other friend and New Orleans roommate Rizz had a blowout guid'fro (although those things are pretty shocking). I was shocked at how good I looked. I mean really good. Seriously, maybe I look normal size to you, and I know I was never actually "thin", but, let's take a look at me recently for a comparison:

Holy hell! Who is that fat bastard! I can almost hear the wheezing through the picture! I pulled a Mac from It's Always Sunny. And that was 10 months ago...it's only gotten worse.

So I need to get fit, but there's always that issue of time. And the fact that I hate working out. I stayed in shape when I was younger because I enjoyed playing sports. I still enjoy sports, but you can never get enough people together for a game, the gym costs money, outdoor basketball courts are awful, etc. These all sound like excuses, because they are, but I think they are pretty valid excuses. Regardless, I need to find a way to just get off my ass. My big, fat ass.

I have to manage my time better, and figure out what is important to me so I can focus on those things. Even though I hate running, lifting, or basically any physical exertion that doesn't end in orgasm, I need to motivate myself because the "Ben and Jerry's Everything But The..." pounds don't just disappear like they used to.

Unfortunately, managing your time and focusing on what's important is always harder than it sounds. It's why so many people never get around to doing the things they say they will "eventually get around to". Just as  you get a handle on one thing, some thing else pops up that requires your time and energy. I finally got around to writing again by starting this blog, but that was during a break from teaching. Now, school has started again and I have 48 essays to correct in the first week, and that's something I need to do or I won't have a job for very long. And if I don't have that job, I won't be able to do many other things I want to do, like pay for electricity at my condo. With no electricity, I can't write this blog from home, or watch my beloved shows; therefore, correcting papers becomes a priority.

I have no problem with that, it just means that I need to sacrifice some other things I like to do. Things like sleep, which is something I truly enjoy. However, science says you need 7-9 hours of sleep per night, and I gotta follow science. So I can't cut back too much on sleep.

Then there's everything else I mentioned previously, like movies, books, and other hobbies; at some point you gotta give up some of those things, or become much more discerning in what you choose to do.

Then there's the most important things in life, like spending time with friends and family and building relationships; you know, the stuff Ice Cube movies are made of.

No, I meant these.

I was never really good at keeping in touch with people. I don't like talking on the phone, and texting isn't much better. When I was very young, I just assumed that if you were important enough, I'd eventually see you and hang out, but that's just not the case, especially now. People don't just randomly hang out, they have important shit to do, or at least they should. Time slips by, and one day you realize you haven't seen a good friend in months; that's when you understand that you need to make time for your loved ones, it doesn't just happen.

I wish I had more time because I have some really cool people in my life. I apologize if I haven't made enough time for some of you. It is unintentional.

In fact, I just don't want you seeing me like this:

The lack of chin and neck is almost as disturbing as the fat on the eyelids, but not quite.

I'm gonna get better. Probably not at the staying-in-touch thing, but with this whole Jerry Lewis, water-head thing I got going on.

I Love You All (And We'll Hang Out Real Soon I Promise)...Class Dismissed.

Drake's Cakes "Bread Lines (Mayo)": Behind the Music with Fat Margie

So I don’t want to seem like I’m jumping on the “make fun of Drake” bandwagon, but I’ve been mocking his monotone nonsense for a while now, so if anything, people have been following me on that. I’m still working on improving the audio for my videos, and then improving the videos themselves, but this one came out all right. The whole “look at my face as I rap off-beat” thing is getting a little old, but it’s fun. That's all that really matters. I enjoy it even if you don't; and if you do enjoy it, spread it around! Make me viral! Make me Weird Al!

Wait, I take that back...

So now that I have my own blog, I can do a whole behind-the-scenes/making-of type thing. To start off, I want to explain a little about "Fat Margie". Yes, the character portrayed in my song parodies is based on a real person. She is a very large person. And she is a very sexual person, as a few of my friends can attest. More than anything though, she is a sweetheart, and all of these songs are made with love. She is indeed my muse. I try to branch out and do other things, but she keeps pulling me back in. It's like she has her own gravitational pull. 

Over the years, Fat Margie has become something more than just a nickname for one over-sized woman. She is a symbol, a representation of the excesses of American society. A symbol of the broken healthcare system and a testament to the rampant glorification of unhealthy lifestyles. We have an epidemic of obesity on our hands, and yet the First Lady is labeled a socialist for encouraging exercise and eating more fruits and vegetables. 

I think we need to be sensitive about people's differences and flaws, and ensure their right to privacy and freedom to choose, but I also think we need to be real with ourselves. We are fat. We have no one to blame but ourselves...and Ronald McDonald. But we can change, and the change needs to come from within. Sometimes, humor can inspire people to change. I'm not saying my music will improve the world, I mean I'm not the Wyld Stallyns, but maybe, just maybe, a fat little child will see this song and take pride in her oval shape and be inspired to put down the cheese fries and pick up an apple.  


As a society, we need to lighten up. I understand that women are faced with body image issues on a daily basis, and I'm not trying to belittle that or add to that. In fact, I'm trying to help women deal with those issues by saying, "Fuck your ideal body shape. I'm comfortable with who I am. And I ain't messing with no leaf eater." 

What I'm saying is, don't think too much about the meaning of my music. It's purely for fun. So just enjoy.

I’m gonna post the original song so you know what I’m really making fun of, which is Drake. He's horrible. There's no symbolism there. He's just not a good musician, yet he's very popular for some reason. Anyways, here is Drake with Headlines.

Yeah. He's the top rap artist out right now. Let that sink in. 

And here's my song (click the title). Lyrics are below for you to rap/Drake-monotone-sing along with. Enjoy!!!

Drake's Cakes

Bread Lines (Mayo)

I might be too strung out on condiments
Overdose of flatulence

Farted and my drawers blew off so you should fear my excrement

Chutney every night because I even eat exotic shit

Put on way too much chili sauce I’m burning anuses

And they sayin I’m fat, I agree with that

I just take my time when I take shits I still believe in that

I had someone pass me some duck sauce ooh I needed that

teriyaki and soy packets, where I leave them at

Chinese place exaggerates the sauce, now I got a fat stack

Fuck a napkin use my shirt cause I’m just slobbin like that

You know good and well I got a weight problem like that

Go and get me barbecue and put some mayo on that
No don’t chew it, please don’t chew it, cause some of us like food

And me I overdo it
Margie love the mayo, so Margie gonna eat it

No miracle whip come on man beat it

That aint even mayo

Mayo, mayo, mayo

Mayo, mayo, mayo

Mayo, mayo, mayo

Yeah mayo yeah

the real put it on their fries

Make it super sized

I’ll even snort it don’t tempt me cuz I’ll try
Now that’s love for mayo
mayo mayo mayo

Yeah, I be puttin that mayo over everything, mayo on my mind.

Then she wanna ask why the mayo jars empty

Tell her I apologize it happened dinner time

She says I missed the worchestirshire, girl don’t tempt me

you got Dijon, I’m all over you

My heart attack is long over due

I just can’t poo when I’m supposed to poo

I’m all tied up guts rumbling all night but still I can’t produce a nice deuce

Listen to me expressing all my feelings

Sitting on the crapper all my farts sound like they are Korean

And that’s’s cuz of the msg they put on all my chicken

I guess it really is just me, myself and all my fixins

You know Roy Rogers use to got it like that.
You gone hype me up and get me all excited like that

Cause I live for condiments it aint a hobby like that
When they get my turkey sandwich, I aint even gotta say it, mayo

Mayo, mayo, mayo

Mayo, mayo, mayo

Mayo, mayo, mayo

Yeah mayo yeah

the real put it on their fries

Make it super sized

I’ll even snort it don’t tempt me cuz I’ll try
Now that’s love for mayo
mayo mayo mayo

I be putting that mayo over everything, mayo on my mind. (mind mind mind)

I will not apologize I eat it all the time (time  time time)

Mayo

I Love You All (As Long As You Don't Try To Give Me Lite Mayo)...Class Dismissed.

Help Me Out, Friends

If you haven't heard of the phenomenon of "six degrees of separation", you may have heard of the game "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" that is based on the phenomenon; or maybe you know the movie Six Degrees of Separation, featuring a pre-Independence Day Will Smith. Actually, if you were paying attention during that movie, you should know about the phenomenon. Anyways, the phrase refers to the fact that everyone in the entire world is connected to everyone else through 6 people or less. The theory was first conceptualized in the 1920's by Frigyes Karinthy (that is a wikipedia "fact") and then popularized in the experiments of Stanley Milgram (not the experiments where he mentally tortured volunteers, he simply sent out postcards for this one). Milgram basically provided a scientific foundation for the It's a Small World After All ride.

You see this concept played out all the time. You start up a random conversation at the store and find out you are talking to the cousin of your best friend's girlfriend. Or maybe you are on a plane sitting next to a friend of your ex-girlfriend's brother. Or maybe you find yourself dating a serial killer who actually turns out to be the biological brother of your adopted brother.

A recent news article stated that because of social networking, we are actually connected to everyone on the planet through 4.74 steps or less. This means, more than ever, we are all connected. The ramifications of being connected to every single person on this planet through less than 5 steps are extraordinary. Would you drop bombs on a neighborhood knowing that you will kill people who are good friends of your cousin's teacher's husband's nephew's girlfriend? I know I couldn't.

This is a societal revolution. A global, societal revolution. It means that nobody is a stranger. No culture or custom is alien to any other culture. It means that we are all one community. It means that we can change the world.

It means that Scarlett Johansson is only 5 steps away from me. Less than 5. One of you people is connected to someone who knows a person who knows somebody else who knows someone who is really close to Scarlett Johansson.  If you could just reach out to that person, and that person could do the same, and so on, I could arrange to have dinner with Scarlett. And once we met in person, she would see that we were meant to be together.

Well hello, destiny.

I could charm her with my wit and impress her with my fashion sense and huge dong and tell her I forgive her for marrying that douchebag because she was young and he probably drugged her then forced himself upon her repeatedly.

If those aren't the abs of a serial rapist, than I don't know the abs of a serial rapist.

My point is, everyone is connected. If all of us spread love to everyone we know and everyone we meet, and they went on to do the same, this would be a much better planet on which to exist as a human being.

So spread love. Spread peace. Spread my email address to Scarlett Johansson.
We can do this, people. For America. For Earth. For me.

I Love You All (But Not in the Same Way That I Love You, Scarlett)...Class Dismissed.

SWP: Origins Chapter 2

So, as the title of this post subtly implies, this is Chapter 2 of SWP: Origins. It is a work in progress. Feel free to share, comment, critique, bash, revere, or simply enjoy.

Chapter 2

The two men stood outside of the door, looking down at the floor. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, one man reached his hand upwards and knocked gently on the glass panel of the door.

There was no answer. He knocked again, slightly harder.

Nothing. The men looked at each other with a look of confusion and panic.

Just as the man reached to knock for a third time, a voice from within the office called out, “Open the door and come in.”

They looked at each other and opened the door. Inside was a large, open office with one oversized desk at the far wall. Sitting at the desk was a white haired man in a dark suit. There was a large, black phone on his desk and an ipad, which he was staring at intently. He did not look up as he addressed the men.

“Well?”

The two men looked at each other. Neither of them wanted to speak, but knew what would happen if they made their boss repeat himself.

They began at the same time, “Sir, we think…”

“One at a time, morons. I can barely understand you cretins as it is.”

They apologized and stood silently for a few seconds before the one who knocked on the door finally spoke up.

“Sir, we think we found the wreckage.”

“The wreckage? What the hell do I need with wreckage?”

“Well, it could lead us to...”

“Are you kidding me? This is a joke right? You guys are playing the jesters because you know I’m in a bad mood.” He stood up from behind his desk and walked slowly toward the two men, still looking at his ipad. “That’s the only explanation I have. Because why would you come in here telling me some shit that doesn’t help me one bit? Some shit that I already know because I keep up with goddamn technology!”  As he spoke the last word, he quickly swung his hand holding the ipad forward. The unfortunate bearer of bad news dropped to his knees as blood gushed from his nose.

The white haired man turned to his second visitor and stared at him intently.

“Now, unless you two dumb fucks have something to tell me that I didn’t already know, get the hell out of my sight. And from now on, if you have something to say to me, send a goddamn email. I don’t want to see your crooked eyes and this bastard’s busted nose ever again. It makes me depressed. Lock the door on your way out."

He walked back to his desk, wiping the blood off his ipad on to his pant leg. As he sat down, the black telephone started ringing. He picked it up on the first ring.

“Give me something.”

The voice on the other line was almost drowned out by static.

“Sir, there are three teams spread out over a 5 mile radius. There’s no sign of any life out here. And it’s below zero. If anything did survive, it didn’t last long.”

“Did you find what I asked you to find?”

“Well…sir…no, but...”

“So you’re making an assumption. You called me to tell me your assumptions, is that what I’m hearing?”

“Sir…it’s just that…”

“It’s just that you want to get out of the cold. You didn’t find shit, and you don’t want to freeze your tiny little nuts off, is that it?”

“No, it’s just…”

“Shut up. Shut up now. If you didn’t find them, they are not there. And if they are not there, he has them. And if he has them, then you need to find him and kill him so I can get what’s rightfully mine.”

He reached to put the phone back into the receiver but stopped. He put the phone back to his mouth and shouted, “And kill that fucking dog, too!” then slammed the phone down.

Back on the mountain, the man with the cell phone turned and addressed the 7 other guys waiting for orders in the tent.

“Well, gentlemen. Looks like we’re here for the long haul. Boss says they’re alive and that you-know-who’s got them.”

The men started mumbling and shaking their heads in disbelief.

“I know, I know. But you try telling that to the boss. Thousands of miles away and he still swears he knows exactly what’s going on. Well, it’s no use sitting here talking about it. Let’s start walking and find these fucking things.”

The men zipped up their jackets, put on their gloves and masks, and headed out into the cold. Each one of them believed their efforts were in vain, but they knew arguing would be even more pointless. As they left the tent, the man with the cell phone stopped and turned to address the other men.

“Oh, and we have to kill the dog now, too.”

After several hours of a silent, unproductive search through the snow-covered mountain pass, one of the men shouted, “Hey, Santos. Come check this out!”

A long, thin, wooden rod lay half-buried in the snow next to a boulder at the foot of the mountain. The rod was covered in blood and fur, and there was a large circle of dark snow spread out underneath it. Several footprints were visible under a small dusting of fresh powder.

“I’ll be damned,” the man identified as Santos said, picking up what was left of the arrow. “The boss was right. That motherfucker was here. And I guarantee he’s got the hound and those damn pussies with him.”

They started back towards their tent to call for back-up and more ammunition.

End Chapter 2

The Man is More Important Than the Myth

I woke up at 10:30 this morning and I turned on my ipod. I had the "Recently Added" playlist going and the introduction to Common's album "The Dreamer/The Believer" came on. I decided to listen to the whole album, and within the first twenty minutes, there were no less than ten references to Dr. King and his Dream.

I've listened to the album before, so I don't know if it was a subconscious decision to keep listening to the album when it randomly came on today, but I found it interesting that I listened to this particular album on this particular day. And since this blog takes its name from a movie that revolves around strange coincidences, or intersections, I decided to put off my post about how much I love sleeping (and if/how that interferes with my need for more time to accomplish my goals) and instead write a little about the man who has served as an inspiration to millions of people across the globe.

Everybody knows the legend of Dr. King, and everyone knows his "I Have a Dream" speech. But even if we actually take the time to watch that famous segment of the speech, or even the speech in its entirety, we still don't get a full sense of its importance. We can appreciate the video for its raw power. The words are simple yet profound. Any human being with feelings can relate to what he is saying. Even people who don't understand the words are still moved by the pure energy and emotion in his voice and delivery.

But it all seems so obvious when we look back at it now. Of course everybody should be treated equally. Obviously all little children should have the same opportunity to succeed and live happily. "I Have a Dream" posters are in every elementary school. Dr. King is a mainstream hero; no matter your race or ethnicity, class or political affiliation (most of the time), Dr. King is considered an icon. We forget that we celebrate his birthday with a national holiday and build statues of him on the National Mall because what he was saying was so groundbreaking and controversial at the time.

Think about that. "I Have a Dream" was a controversial speech. This speech was given in 1963. We may have seen the videos of the police dogs and the fire hoses, but we are all so desensitized to anything on video now, it doesn't really sink in that this was life in America less than 50 years ago.

We have come a long way. We have come so far, in fact, that now there are claims of reverse racism! Now, privileged, white millionaires are talking about how hard it is for them to make it in this country. That's... progress? Well, we do have a (half) black president. Then again, more than half of the second largest political party in the country believe that same president is Muslim, something which they equate to "evil". In fact, a quarter of those same people think he may in fact be the Anti-Christ. I love it when dreams come true!

In all seriousness, though, things have gotten better. The only dogs at our protests now are wearing clever signs about financial reform.

Hipsters just write the jokes for me!

The only segregation we face now is psychological, which is an improvement over psychological and physical segregation, at least. 

We owe these improvements to Dr. King and thousands of others like him. Everybody involved in the fight for civil rights deserves credit, but Dr. King stands out among the rest, and with good reason. Not only did he die for the cause, but he lived for the cause. His dedication, and his willingness to stare down the face of brutality with love and kindness, changed the course of this country, and arguably the world. There are only a few people throughout history that have made such an impact.

Buddha needs to keep an eye on his plate...Gandhi looks hungry.

We rightfully view Dr. King as mythical being. Sometimes, though, holding people up as icons can have negative, unintended consequences. When we think of Dr. King as some kind of holy figure, we forget that he was just a man, and like all men, he had flaws. We think of him and others like him as perfect; therefore, when we are not perfect, and we make mistakes as every human being ever is prone to do, we feel like we are incapable of greatness.Too many of us equate greatness with perfection. It's not enough to think of Pope John Paul II as a great man, we have to come up with stories about the "miracles" he performed and ordain him as a saint. Humans are not saints (especially not humans who ignore child abuse allegation for years and demonize birth control and homosexuals). It is not dangerous to confuse children with angels, but it is dangerous to confuse humans with saints.

Dr. King was a great man. We should continue to honor him for as long as this country exists (10 years or so, I'm guessing). But we shouldn't be afraid to treat his memory like that of an actual human being. We should be able to openly talk about the allegations of plagiarism in his doctoral thesis without that diminishing his legendary status as a man of integrity. We shouldn't shy away from talks of his infidelity. When we try to hide these facts about our heroes, people with an agenda can use those facts in an attempt to tarnish their legacy, or even tarnish the legacy of their causes. We should openly and honestly address all aspects of our heroes' lives. There's nothing wrong with our heroes being human.  

Ironically, when our heroes are alive, we like nothing more than watching their fall from grace. The word "hater" has become such a common term it's even used in political news articles. People make a living off of doing nothing but spitting vitriol and hate on anyone and anything popular. And oftentimes, one quote, often taken out of context, means an entire career is derailed.

Now, there are exceptions. If you are a successful athlete, you can pretty much get away with anything.

He's gonna have to win at least 3 more Super Bowl's to make up for what happened after this picture was taken.

We are so quick to tear down our (non-sports-related) heroes. Especially when it comes to people involved with social issues. John Edwards is a scum bag, but it doesn't mean he was wrong about "Two Americas", and it doesn't mean we discount any and all the solutions he was proposing.

And if Dr. King was getting a little side lovin' while his own government spied on him and supremacist groups plotted to kill him, so what? Does that change what he did for this country? If he lifted a passage or two in his doctoral thesis, does that make this letter or any of his speeches less meaningful or powerful? In his article "Something Borrowed", Malcolm Gladwell contemplates the complexity of plagiarism and questions the severity of some of the punishments that plagiarists have received. As a Composition instructor, I take plagiarism very seriously. But I also realize there are different levels of plagiarism, and I know that sometimes people simply do not cite their sources properly. I'm not making excuses for him, but copying two passages in an entire thesis is not cause enough to question the integrity of Dr. King (Boston University felt it didn't warrant a revocation of his degree). 

As far as the marital infidelity, if his wife and family stood by him through everything, and by all accounts, he was there for them, who are we to judge? Besides, he was fighting for civil rights, not claiming to champion the "sanctity of marriage." I mean, only a real piece of shit would claim to be defending the sanctity of marriage after cheating on his dying wife. That's blatant hypocrisy.

There was nothing hypocritical about King. He believed in equality for all, and he dedicated his life to achieving it, peacefully. He had flaws, but his vision did not, and he was willing to do whatever he could to make his vision a reality. Despite the overwhelming hate and prejudice he faced, his vision never wavered. His claim that "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere" made people realize that we are all part of the same community; what happens to one person should matter to all. The biggest problem he faced was the moderates; people who claimed to be for the cause but made no actions to support the cause. People who sympathized with others in need, but who were just too comfortable in their own position to do anything to disturb the status quo.

This still exists today. We are quick to verbalize our support of some cause, maybe even sign an online petition, but what do we actually do to help? People are content with how things are, or they are too cynical to believe that any action may have a positive effect. And if we finally decide to actually get involved, we are chided for being dirty and lazy. 

We have gone so far away from the idea of "helping others in need" and "getting involved" that it is now commonplace to actively encourage people to mind their own damn business.

People are labeled a "snitch" for just about anything. "Tattletales" have never been viewed positively, but we've pushed so far back against the idea of getting involved, that it's no wonder we hear about bullying "epidemics". Kids that might stop a bully from terrorizing a kid may not want to get involved and be labeled a snitch. I love Dan Savage's "It Get's Better" campaign because all youth, especially LGBT youth, need to know that life does improve after adolescence. But I like the "Make it Better" campaign more because it encourages kids to take a stand now, not just for yourself, but for those around you. If you see something wrong, do something about it. Yes, the bully may turn his or her attention on you. That is part of life. Are you willing to stand up for what you believe in, even if it means you get beat up by the school bully?

That's what King stood for. If you see injustice, you should say something about it, and more importantly, do something about it. Everybody makes mistakes, and no person, or movement, is perfect. Everyone and everything is flawed, but that doesn't mean you can't make a positive difference in the world. Dr. King, albeit more intelligent and compassionate than the majority of the human population, was only a man. We should celebrate the fact that a mere mortal was able to have such a positive, long-lasting impact on the entire world. 

We should honor his legacy by getting involved in our communities. As a whole, our society views community service as punishment, or, at best, something you need to do to graduate. The federal government has recently initiated the MLK Day of Service, and I think that's a step in the right direction. However, if the only time we do community service is once a year on MLK Day, we are still missing the point. 

We don't need to be serving soup to the homeless every weekend. We don't need to give all of our money to charity. We don't need to put our lives on the line for a cause, but that might be something to think about. We should at least try to make the world a better place, even if it's just a little bit. The smallest efforts from individuals turn into large group efforts. After working with a non-profit organization for a while, I can state unequivocally that the cliche is true: Every little bit helps.

We are far from perfect, but we can do better. We have to do better. The legacies of Dr. King and countless others who dedicated their lives to the Civil Rights Movement demand it.

I Love You All (sons of former slaves and sons of former slave-owners)...Class Dismissed.