Ok, on a positive note I just got word that my account has been disapproved to run ads on various parts of my page. What that means in the writing world is that my particular audience is so specialized that I may be offensive to the casual reader. I'm heading for the big leagues. What serious writer has ads run through their text anywayz? Only product placement in movies uses this strategy because it makes sense, sort of. They have to be careful to use symbols that fit the movie's time period, setting, and demographic. Kudos to Goo... oops, (can I say their name here?) They have to stand by their guns as I have to tell it like it is.
"But at what cost, David?", you may ask. "You're heading for bankruptcy, you're staying in a house you're not paying for, your dog just died. Could't a little money help. Tone it down, kiss a little ass, brown nos ... eh, well you know what we mean. Just don't say you voted for Obama, and Nagin, and Edwards ... etc." But, the tragedy here is simple to see: If I continued to live someplace that didn't want me, the truth would come out anyway. I'm not gay, not gonna give into that senseless trend just to end up in a fight with a guy lover (although some guys will brutally jump the gun on that point their feelings being hurt). I'm not a criminal, so how am I gonna get any heterosex ... the pussycat, without being a gangstah. As I've so vividly explained at the cost of making money I don't give a damn about the 1950's to 1970's spawned racist standards attempting to refabricate old fashioned Jim Crow into new fashioned Jim Crow. A death sentence is a death sentence, a rat trap is a rat trap. The idiots with the money enough to get people to kiss their asses need to understand a thing or two, and I'm not pulling any punches. I use my right to free speech and my adult freedoms because when I didn't speak up for myself or use my liberties I LOST THEM!!!
I hate to keep rehashing this issue, but "I could have been somebody, I could have been a contender ... ", Marlon Brando from on the Waterfront. And, my St. John Prep coaches were right: I am sorry that I didn't try out for professional sports outside of the pressing need to feed myself in becoming a certified lifeguard. What do you want me to say that hasn't already been said by the lesbian conservatives everytime I enter into their environments as the straight man that I am. I've mentioned the dirty looks from those expecting Ru Paul and instead seeing OJ in me. My body was meant for athletic masculine battle and it smells like it. All my career I've heard that from those sensitive idiots who I'll call the 'male model' protocol. They make no secret that they have 'male model' high standards in grooming, and anyone falling short ... well, you know. I'm not white, I'm not pretty, I smell ... get the impression. The ideal is fine for them to expect, but my straight male expectations are offensive, especially to racists.
So, the clock is gonna tick down this time I'm afraid, and where I'll end up I don't know. I wrote "Forgiveness & Avoiding the Negativity Trap!" to foster development in the right direction. But, then I started thinking about what I'd written myself, scouring the pages, and while it's a good read for those who've probably MADE THE MISTAKES AND KNOW BETTER, it's probably booooooooring to the kids out there (and starting teachers) out there still making the mistakes and getting into fights. Of course, they are gonna complain that no one told them what I've got written in my book. And, they may just pick up on the message from someone else .... plenty of books on forgiveness out there, including the Bible. They just don't want to be preached to, or told what to do, especially today!!! So, see for yourself ... go live life, make mistakes ... then read my book! Ok! Anon!
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Friday, January 30, 2015
Thoughts on the Rat Trap revisited ... ;\ Driven Part 2
What would a rat, or any animal or plant in a trap, have to say if it could talk. We, as human beings, have the gift of the Holy Spirit through Jesus. Thus, I'm not quite as trapped as I may be letting on. But, I can still express that which I'm seeing daily, that growing stonewall of useless behavior, especially in those tending toward the feminine persuasion (though not all women) that is supposed to be saving them from their potential abusers. Here's the problem, speaking as the VIRGIN MAN that I am: I find it rediculous that they would use racism to profile me as dangerous to them. For one thing they are only telling all about themselves, and that is what real victimizers look for. So, why do I care anyway? I mean: David you're the VIRGIN MAN, what do you care? Well, it's the NATURE OF THE BEAST, as one racist professor tried to tell me in her class. Let's face it, you are all dropping the ball. Eyeballing a man using old phrenology, i.e., the bumps on his head, the head shape, the color of the skin, etc. surface characteristics that make a guy ugly is not a way of identifying a really dangerous guy. What I believe is going on is that the seducers are filling the heads of their victims with lies to distract from true insidious motives. Time and time again I've seen women fall for these lies because time and time again I've lost enough women to the liars. I HAVE A BODY COUNT: THE WOMEN THAT I LET FALL AWAY FROM ME AND INTO THE ARMS OF THEIR KILLERS. Specifically, these 'kills' involve those women who really berated me, called me 'fag' because I did not once show aggression toward them that a real man would show. My version of the event is that they wanted me to fall into their RAT TRAP and I would not leave my natural soft spoken nature ... did I just admit that. Yes, I'm really cool ... not loud mouthed. For an athlete I'm not proud or haughty. I just went out there, did my job, ran my race, pitched my game, and accepted the results. Although it was indeed 'courtship' oriented for the girls to see as with all male competition, I never proclaimed myself to be a pimp!!!
That's where the trouble began. You see ladies, half of the problem is clearly in YOU!!! YOU!!!YOU!!!YOU criticize a BOYS WILL BE BOYS ethic, but you truly treat men like LITTLE BITCHES when they don't MAN UP! It took me a while to admit it myself, being brainwashed by Alice and her Mel, Good Times and their Bookman, and One Day at a Time with their Schneider (not to mention the Barney Miller episodes that were so hypocritical that I'm nauseated). Only children, boys & girls, could fall for some of the anti-male scripts of the 70's (in particular 3's Company's introduction of networks first gaylike character). Here's the problem, it left a generation of younger people really thinking that MALENESS ITSELF was the problem. Add racism to that mix and you know who's going to be the target of the blame ... ah la OJ if you get my meaning.
But, I will not be driven and here's the reason why: have you looked at the internet lately? From Tula, to Ru Paul, to Chris Crocker one can clearly see it. Women have fallen in love with the ANTIMALE concept, even going so far as to involve themselves only with feminine men. Empathy: that's what they are seeking especially when they have been victimized. However, here's the problem with that plan: When did these feminine entities stop being .... their enemies? There were a few moments in my life where I had been emasculated (racially trying to tell me that women were uncomfortable with me) that I no longer loved myself as a man. I started to form a female personality, a few of them by the way. It took on the form of a physical transformation, and a change in behavior in private at least. Antisocial societies actually make men weird, and as I started to weird out I failed to see that the cause was not in me. Those were the scary years when I actually thought myself to be a hermaphrodite. I actually convinced myself that my masculity was a mistake. But, and this is very personal, as I looked at myself in the mirror one day dressed up like Cher, I saw it. I happened to be lifting weights at the time, in a bikini and long hair and makeup, ... the complete female persona. What I noticed was that the muscle bound freak in the mirror could still snap anyone's neck. That's when I woke up in my apartment in Manhattan Kansas, in graduate school. They'd gotten to me, the isolation, the racism at church, no one to talk to ... I'd finally lost it. I gave myself a name (which I won't mention here), and it was hard to talk myself back to normal ... as per the fact that 'she' wanted to come out and she's a very mean bitch. What a friend ladies!!! And yet women not only seek out this companionship today, but the really stupid ones (in some way) castrate men to become their friends. What's wrong ladies? I'm telling you: you may feel better around a more empathetic and feminine man, but you don't have the right to make a man that way. Driving, driving, driving, driving ...... until ....... well read my previous blog on 'going a little crazy sometimes'!! Holy Spiritual prayer is constant from me. The dirty looks from those who know that I'm straight in Walgreens, in Walmart, at the bank, it's not gay women happy to be with each other. It's very scared people eyeing me like identifying my masculinity, my chosen condition, like I should be something else. All I can do is look at them and ask: How many of them have died at the hands of that gay best friend? For you guys who are really gay and good friends with people I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT YOU!!! I'M TALKING ABOUT THE SICKNESS OF ANTI-MALE RACIST HATE!!! I'm praying for you all. Anon.
That's where the trouble began. You see ladies, half of the problem is clearly in YOU!!! YOU!!!YOU!!!YOU criticize a BOYS WILL BE BOYS ethic, but you truly treat men like LITTLE BITCHES when they don't MAN UP! It took me a while to admit it myself, being brainwashed by Alice and her Mel, Good Times and their Bookman, and One Day at a Time with their Schneider (not to mention the Barney Miller episodes that were so hypocritical that I'm nauseated). Only children, boys & girls, could fall for some of the anti-male scripts of the 70's (in particular 3's Company's introduction of networks first gaylike character). Here's the problem, it left a generation of younger people really thinking that MALENESS ITSELF was the problem. Add racism to that mix and you know who's going to be the target of the blame ... ah la OJ if you get my meaning.
But, I will not be driven and here's the reason why: have you looked at the internet lately? From Tula, to Ru Paul, to Chris Crocker one can clearly see it. Women have fallen in love with the ANTIMALE concept, even going so far as to involve themselves only with feminine men. Empathy: that's what they are seeking especially when they have been victimized. However, here's the problem with that plan: When did these feminine entities stop being .... their enemies? There were a few moments in my life where I had been emasculated (racially trying to tell me that women were uncomfortable with me) that I no longer loved myself as a man. I started to form a female personality, a few of them by the way. It took on the form of a physical transformation, and a change in behavior in private at least. Antisocial societies actually make men weird, and as I started to weird out I failed to see that the cause was not in me. Those were the scary years when I actually thought myself to be a hermaphrodite. I actually convinced myself that my masculity was a mistake. But, and this is very personal, as I looked at myself in the mirror one day dressed up like Cher, I saw it. I happened to be lifting weights at the time, in a bikini and long hair and makeup, ... the complete female persona. What I noticed was that the muscle bound freak in the mirror could still snap anyone's neck. That's when I woke up in my apartment in Manhattan Kansas, in graduate school. They'd gotten to me, the isolation, the racism at church, no one to talk to ... I'd finally lost it. I gave myself a name (which I won't mention here), and it was hard to talk myself back to normal ... as per the fact that 'she' wanted to come out and she's a very mean bitch. What a friend ladies!!! And yet women not only seek out this companionship today, but the really stupid ones (in some way) castrate men to become their friends. What's wrong ladies? I'm telling you: you may feel better around a more empathetic and feminine man, but you don't have the right to make a man that way. Driving, driving, driving, driving ...... until ....... well read my previous blog on 'going a little crazy sometimes'!! Holy Spiritual prayer is constant from me. The dirty looks from those who know that I'm straight in Walgreens, in Walmart, at the bank, it's not gay women happy to be with each other. It's very scared people eyeing me like identifying my masculinity, my chosen condition, like I should be something else. All I can do is look at them and ask: How many of them have died at the hands of that gay best friend? For you guys who are really gay and good friends with people I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT YOU!!! I'M TALKING ABOUT THE SICKNESS OF ANTI-MALE RACIST HATE!!! I'm praying for you all. Anon.
Why not play sports professionally??? The Explanation, praise the Holy Spirit!!!
First of all let me sooth you guys, I'm really not crazy as I may 'sound'. After all I'm just typing what I am feeling before I go backrupt. I'm just counting the days now before my last paycheck from the job I quit from that two job situation. That leaves me with only one job and living in a cold drafty house that I'm not paying for. My former public school students used a word that befits my predicament: DRIVING, OR DROVE, AS they put it. The let down in life is that I was made aware that there are more crazy adults influencing the same DRIVING antics that the kids had.
They never use the proper pronunciation, DRIVEN, but they (the kids and adults) nailed the meaning on me all day long. It was very bad because of consequences paid for their own choices. Many of the kids, despite their gifts and intelligence, chose a life of crime that I, at the time, could not see their reasoning for. I was above that. To make a long story short, as I approach homelessness and bankruptcy, I can sort of see the reason for their desperation. For all those who knew me as an athlete and singer at St. John Vianney you may have wondered why I didn't major in music, art, or athletics in college finishing my high school program. Well, my father was a product of the depression segregation era. Being so, he was a SEVERELY INTIMIDATED MAN and abused to his heart when it came to certain issues, specifically those offending white people. Dave Chappelle talks about his 'black power' father in his comedy. Well, my father was just the opposite, he hated integration. Like so many he felt that 'niggers' had lost a vital place in society due to integration. He frequently dropped civil rights leader's names with disgust. Thus, anything that offended white people he hated, including points of my development.
I often mentioned to him that I wanted to continue with my sports, music, & art endeavors ... the things that I had proven to be good at. But, he being a loud mouthed criminal would put me down with the mention of each of those proven successful areas. He was criminally schizoprenic and had commited crimes in his childhood. But, the worst one was an assault on my mother when I was a child. This ended their marriage then and should have been the final curtain. But, she let him back in the door after my brother was nearly killed in an auto accident thinking we needed his authority, I guess. Under her guidance I started playing baseball, pursued art, and even started playing guitar and pursued music theory. My father, moreover, graduated at Xavier in music with a bachelors, but, as he put it, his jacked up nerves were too bad to be employed. He was a skilled musician, brilliant ... but, there was already a Robert Johnson in the music world; and, with him being paranoid schizophrenic it messed him up mentally to be compared with the other one.
He played the role of the dutiful father buying sports equipment and even computer systems and books to read. But, the man was a product of segregation and the depression. His mind was swiss cheese. You had to look at people's faces to tell you what side of the street to walk on. Racists posted signs as to what water fountains you could use and bathrooms were off limits. What people fail to realize is that laws may change, but that training IS STILL A PART OF MANY WHO EXPERIENCED IT. Therefore, what Jackie Robinson, Hank Aaron, and Jesse Owens did was UNHEARD OF, and I got an earfull of it everyday. He was at once proud of it, but fearful for anyone who tried to duplicate the success. I heard the chorus of such racist hits like 'bow wow on the prowl' and 'the monkey played the fiddle on the sweet potato vine' daily. Not only that, but I got the nickname that I came to hate ... BOBBEE, a true bastardization of the name Bobbie. The story is that he hated the concept of junior, and the mention of his brothers James, Jr. and Edward, Jr. made him hollar something fierce. But, he had no problem with giving me his own nickname from childhood, thus directly using the concept of junior, only with that more 'ee' feminine twist. In short, there came a time when my shoulders got too broad and my balls started to descend, my voice had that famous BASS in it, and when hair showed up on my face and old school parents see that as trespassing on their territory. What's more, you know I was the Michael Evans militant of the house. As I started to express my adulthood and points of view I was often told I was pissing on the wall and smelling it, in some form or fashion. Sound familiar?
Little did I realize that a large part of our society is still partial to this abuse, not seeing anything at all wrong with it when it comes to responding in fear to black men today. But, I finally figured out what was scaring my dad: I was too good at anything I set my mind to, and I often brought home nightmarish stories about what I'd experienced in the mostly white environment of SJP. What he could see, and often heard, was complaints about my performance level, competing too hard. I'd started out a freshman on the baseball team at SJP performing on the senior level back in 1982. By the time I was a senior those skills had been eroded due to frequent arguments about whether I would pursue sports on the college level. I think my dad was intimidated by what he heard behind the scenes from various parents who's children I struck out, typical things racists say about blacks who perform too well. Thus, as my body peaked, he discouraged me from going any further in sports (and similarly in music and art.) The white boys have all the resources and the skills in everything. But, he and my brother hogged the computer and that became 'their thing' ... and they left me behind to pursue what I can only describe as that criminal lifestyle associated with militants, street thugs, 'my friends' outside with our 'sexual talking'. Mind you I don't hate my father, but imagine a man bringing home his (typical victim) abuse in the army and other racist institutions unabashed not knowing what it was. His favorite device was 'the little king who couldn't see the forest for the trees'. I was that king. Another device used socially is the word 'chief', denoted the deposed dead racial chiefs who had their countries taken from them.
So, what's this have to do with the Holy Spirit or Obama? Even though I'm quite long winded (explaining too much), I had to use the power of forgiveness from the Holy Spirit to pursue a next course of action. That is, being barred from sports, music, and art I majored in Physics/Engineering ... starting out very poorly of course because I'd put all of my eggs in the other baskets (art, music, sports). It took me a long while to become proficient in advanced math and the sciences to survive finally graduating from Xavier University, La. and making into Kansas State University graduating from there in Physics education. I then returned to La. teaching in the private school system first (with some social problems), then switching to the public school system, getting another masters degree (M.A.) in Curriculum and instruction and my Louisiana High School teaching certification, 160017, and getting recertified as a lifeguard. Then, after difficult years getting though to generation X as a teacher with its ghetto pop cultural points, I decided to go on leave in 2005 (just after having a bout with pnuemonia). Katrina struck and that ended my leave, we all got fired (which I did not know), and I ended up in Rapides parish (Tioga Jr. High School) teaching again (and in no shape to do so). All the while I prayed my way through each incident. I was obese and out of shape by that time and didn't know I had high blood pressure. But, I still prayed. When I went back to New Orleans advised not to do so and worked in television, I still prayed. Through the Saints' Superbowl victory and the election of President Obama I gave thanks to God (ever notice that everyone responsible for the Saints/New Orleans recovery was punished or went to jail?)! The Holy Spirit has been with me, however, all this time.
So, finally after being laid off from television and opting not to continue with year round status as a lifeguard I ended up a Vinson Security Guard working over night (again) and a tutor at Delgado Community College. Well, I couldn't keep working the 12 straight hours at Vinson I needed to get fully paid, so I let that go. So, now I'm waiting for my final pay check from Vinson knowing that my Delgado Check is not going to pay the bills. Bankruptcy looms as I wait for my book revenue to start counting. So, whatever happens next, I've at least told someone my story, again. We'll just have to see.
They never use the proper pronunciation, DRIVEN, but they (the kids and adults) nailed the meaning on me all day long. It was very bad because of consequences paid for their own choices. Many of the kids, despite their gifts and intelligence, chose a life of crime that I, at the time, could not see their reasoning for. I was above that. To make a long story short, as I approach homelessness and bankruptcy, I can sort of see the reason for their desperation. For all those who knew me as an athlete and singer at St. John Vianney you may have wondered why I didn't major in music, art, or athletics in college finishing my high school program. Well, my father was a product of the depression segregation era. Being so, he was a SEVERELY INTIMIDATED MAN and abused to his heart when it came to certain issues, specifically those offending white people. Dave Chappelle talks about his 'black power' father in his comedy. Well, my father was just the opposite, he hated integration. Like so many he felt that 'niggers' had lost a vital place in society due to integration. He frequently dropped civil rights leader's names with disgust. Thus, anything that offended white people he hated, including points of my development.
I often mentioned to him that I wanted to continue with my sports, music, & art endeavors ... the things that I had proven to be good at. But, he being a loud mouthed criminal would put me down with the mention of each of those proven successful areas. He was criminally schizoprenic and had commited crimes in his childhood. But, the worst one was an assault on my mother when I was a child. This ended their marriage then and should have been the final curtain. But, she let him back in the door after my brother was nearly killed in an auto accident thinking we needed his authority, I guess. Under her guidance I started playing baseball, pursued art, and even started playing guitar and pursued music theory. My father, moreover, graduated at Xavier in music with a bachelors, but, as he put it, his jacked up nerves were too bad to be employed. He was a skilled musician, brilliant ... but, there was already a Robert Johnson in the music world; and, with him being paranoid schizophrenic it messed him up mentally to be compared with the other one.
He played the role of the dutiful father buying sports equipment and even computer systems and books to read. But, the man was a product of segregation and the depression. His mind was swiss cheese. You had to look at people's faces to tell you what side of the street to walk on. Racists posted signs as to what water fountains you could use and bathrooms were off limits. What people fail to realize is that laws may change, but that training IS STILL A PART OF MANY WHO EXPERIENCED IT. Therefore, what Jackie Robinson, Hank Aaron, and Jesse Owens did was UNHEARD OF, and I got an earfull of it everyday. He was at once proud of it, but fearful for anyone who tried to duplicate the success. I heard the chorus of such racist hits like 'bow wow on the prowl' and 'the monkey played the fiddle on the sweet potato vine' daily. Not only that, but I got the nickname that I came to hate ... BOBBEE, a true bastardization of the name Bobbie. The story is that he hated the concept of junior, and the mention of his brothers James, Jr. and Edward, Jr. made him hollar something fierce. But, he had no problem with giving me his own nickname from childhood, thus directly using the concept of junior, only with that more 'ee' feminine twist. In short, there came a time when my shoulders got too broad and my balls started to descend, my voice had that famous BASS in it, and when hair showed up on my face and old school parents see that as trespassing on their territory. What's more, you know I was the Michael Evans militant of the house. As I started to express my adulthood and points of view I was often told I was pissing on the wall and smelling it, in some form or fashion. Sound familiar?
Little did I realize that a large part of our society is still partial to this abuse, not seeing anything at all wrong with it when it comes to responding in fear to black men today. But, I finally figured out what was scaring my dad: I was too good at anything I set my mind to, and I often brought home nightmarish stories about what I'd experienced in the mostly white environment of SJP. What he could see, and often heard, was complaints about my performance level, competing too hard. I'd started out a freshman on the baseball team at SJP performing on the senior level back in 1982. By the time I was a senior those skills had been eroded due to frequent arguments about whether I would pursue sports on the college level. I think my dad was intimidated by what he heard behind the scenes from various parents who's children I struck out, typical things racists say about blacks who perform too well. Thus, as my body peaked, he discouraged me from going any further in sports (and similarly in music and art.) The white boys have all the resources and the skills in everything. But, he and my brother hogged the computer and that became 'their thing' ... and they left me behind to pursue what I can only describe as that criminal lifestyle associated with militants, street thugs, 'my friends' outside with our 'sexual talking'. Mind you I don't hate my father, but imagine a man bringing home his (typical victim) abuse in the army and other racist institutions unabashed not knowing what it was. His favorite device was 'the little king who couldn't see the forest for the trees'. I was that king. Another device used socially is the word 'chief', denoted the deposed dead racial chiefs who had their countries taken from them.
So, what's this have to do with the Holy Spirit or Obama? Even though I'm quite long winded (explaining too much), I had to use the power of forgiveness from the Holy Spirit to pursue a next course of action. That is, being barred from sports, music, and art I majored in Physics/Engineering ... starting out very poorly of course because I'd put all of my eggs in the other baskets (art, music, sports). It took me a long while to become proficient in advanced math and the sciences to survive finally graduating from Xavier University, La. and making into Kansas State University graduating from there in Physics education. I then returned to La. teaching in the private school system first (with some social problems), then switching to the public school system, getting another masters degree (M.A.) in Curriculum and instruction and my Louisiana High School teaching certification, 160017, and getting recertified as a lifeguard. Then, after difficult years getting though to generation X as a teacher with its ghetto pop cultural points, I decided to go on leave in 2005 (just after having a bout with pnuemonia). Katrina struck and that ended my leave, we all got fired (which I did not know), and I ended up in Rapides parish (Tioga Jr. High School) teaching again (and in no shape to do so). All the while I prayed my way through each incident. I was obese and out of shape by that time and didn't know I had high blood pressure. But, I still prayed. When I went back to New Orleans advised not to do so and worked in television, I still prayed. Through the Saints' Superbowl victory and the election of President Obama I gave thanks to God (ever notice that everyone responsible for the Saints/New Orleans recovery was punished or went to jail?)! The Holy Spirit has been with me, however, all this time.
So, finally after being laid off from television and opting not to continue with year round status as a lifeguard I ended up a Vinson Security Guard working over night (again) and a tutor at Delgado Community College. Well, I couldn't keep working the 12 straight hours at Vinson I needed to get fully paid, so I let that go. So, now I'm waiting for my final pay check from Vinson knowing that my Delgado Check is not going to pay the bills. Bankruptcy looms as I wait for my book revenue to start counting. So, whatever happens next, I've at least told someone my story, again. We'll just have to see.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
This one's for you ... you know who ... ;)
I have this pedophile/racist acquaintance who I met some time ago, actually quite recently. I broke his heart by not showing interest in him. I'm not gay and I didn't appreciate the racism. He kept alluding to the notion that he was the only one who like me, and most women don't. He even went so far as to hook me up with a racist lesbian friend of his just to break my heart. Every time I tried something after I rejected his advances he and his cronies would put my 'efforts' down, brutally. I had to ask him: Is this love? I mean, who would or could really like you if this is how you act toward your intended lovers?! What's your problem? His response was to condescend to me for acting like he described as a 'big child'. So, he would say, "big child, what's your next move? next failure ..." My only consolation was that I was not this fools lover. I'm not judgemental about others' relationships or orientations. But, he just didn't get it. It finally cost me my job, he'd poisoned the environment against me. I don't see why I have to be another gay man to defend myself. It seems that standing your ground as a straight male doesn't mean a thing anymore. My next move, another failure, another failure, and another effort ... until I'm heard. I know for a fact that he was finally caught ... by his own group. He'd hurt his last victim. Does it have to come to this every time? ~~ Forgiven
What is a Nigger? YOU KNOW THERE'S NO SUCH THING!!!
It all started with the impossible union of two different cultures: Northern Europe (United Kingdom/Netherlands) and Southern Europe(Spain/Portugal) and an unprecidented opportunity to call a truce. To make a long story short, the word was made possible by the union of the Spanish word for black, NEGRO, and the English WORD FORMULATOR in the form of the hyphenated r, or 'r. The word keep'r means one who keeps, the word speak'r means one who speaks, and finally .... guess what negro'r means ... one who literally does black. Putting the two together you get NEGRO'r, pronounced classically as negrah as we see in the old movies like Roots. But, why? Aren't there words for HUMAN in each African (or any dark skinned) culture that are independent of skin color in meaning. Human in Swahili just means human. What was the motivation to strike a healthy self definition from the victim population? Well, money, drugs, and the beginning of human trafficking cartels mixed with how language is used to conjugate a false identity in this case. You know how language (conjugation) structures work: el (as in el nino) for the 'male' words and la (as in la nina) for the 'female' words/concepts. Is it so difficult to understand that if gender can be conjugated then 'race' can be conjugated as well. This implies what we all know, specifically that the darker your skin is the 'less valuable' are the items associated with you. It's in the implied languare of 'white and black'. It's why, if you follow me, we went through that stage of development where we had to PROVE that BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL, the old BLACK VS WHITE thing. But, you see, racism is just runaway drunken imagery concocted by those who hastily emptied their Galapagos-intended vessels of the new species of turtles and lizards and quickly replaced them with ...... BLACK PEOPLE (from 'white' people's point of view from that time period).
You have to know a bit of history here. At the time in history between the 1490's and c. 1880 ad, the European Renaissance was in full swing with colonists leaving European prisons (mostly) 'discovering' NEW WORLDS all over the place. Mind you, the darker skinned people from around the equator were no more important than the turtles and the lizards (who they were commonly compared to). The European colonists treated them like shit, and they were likened to vermin to be killed or run from their own land. Moreover, if they were NOT KILLED, they were ENSLAVED as animals and often hauled miles away to be used as animals. Whole societies, their structures, their libraries, their ways of life were destroyed ... because they were 'niggers' from the racist perspective, a waste of flesh on their own landscape. Words have power, and no other word has had more negative power than the word nigger, negra, nigga applied to people, however they want to pronounce it. It was created by drunken pirate exiles calling themselves pilgrims for Jesus, and like Cortez they killed not only in the name of Jesus (blaspheming against Christianity with their actions), but destroying the self concepts and self identities in their victims. This is why it pains me so much to hear that scar coming out of our own mouths, calling each other nigger. Remember that scene from Roots where Kunta Kinte was beaten into saying his name was Toby? Well, that was the nice version. Most victims weren't given a name until much later, and that name was subject to change. After all, when you have multiple different people beating you, they were each apt to give you another name, like dogs.
So, to answer the question: What is a nigger? Unlike the explanation given by Whoopi Goldberg on Hollywood Squares using the word Nigardly (which by the way means selfish) as the starting point, the word nigger (negro'r) is an opportunity for Satan to walk the Earth in the form of the racists themselves. It's written as "negro'r" on the pirate cargo manifests if you look closely. But, as Martin Luther King, Jr. put it there is no greater evil in the universe than racism. Racism uses the word nigger as an OPPORTUNITY to colorize a victim population, via skin color in this case, (as opposed to the one used against the Jews) in order to make the victim feel dirty. I sincerely believe that racists have trouble with the color because its the color of shit, as they say. It's the color that they associate with potty training and filth from birth with nothing else to reference it to. But, if you take the time to think about two things, (1) the real skin coloring agent is MELANIN, if you have never been told that, and (2) when shit gets old, doesn't it turn ..... "white"? These are dreadful metaphors (please stop calling each other names), but nonetheless they are the things I've heard directed at me personally. Remember what that olympic athlete said about that nigger jungle smell? And she got away with it.
What I'm definitely not doing is endorsing racism in any way against anyone. Nor am I ashamed of the way that I look or anyone else's physical appearance. But, it's the LANGUAGE that has formulated a VERY REAL TRAP of sorts, a human conceptual rat trap BASED ONLY ON HOW PEOPLE FEEL ABOUT COLORS! It is so important to realize that if this could happen to the dark skinned people of Africa (the worst victims) then a human rat trap can be fashioned for ANYONE. Imagine a cargo hold of people selected on the basis of hair color, or the most funky athletic smell, or ear lobe shape. etc. Sounds stupid? Well, Adolph Hitler got away with it, as well as Sadam Huessen, and Idi Amin Dada. There are other examples like what's happened in Rawanda, Vietnam's killing fields, and Basnia. What they have in common is a conceptual target (a human rat) and those who would carry out extermination against a target population, against rats in a trap!!!
What is a nigger? It's just one of the most classic examples of this targetting mechanism, an opportunity to be stupid, designed to make the victims associate themselves with the opposite "color concept" on a political pinwheel. The multiple cultures, languages, and the wealth of personal self interpretations have been lost. Who knows who the first people in those dark animal cargo holds really were? No one has asked, really. Will it happen again? Definitely. We have to keep our eyes open. France today is a good example of how things can get out of hand. I want to leave you with this: NO ONE BELONGS IN A RAT TRAP!!! THERE IS REALLY NO SUCH THING AS A NIGGER!!! ANON!!!
You have to know a bit of history here. At the time in history between the 1490's and c. 1880 ad, the European Renaissance was in full swing with colonists leaving European prisons (mostly) 'discovering' NEW WORLDS all over the place. Mind you, the darker skinned people from around the equator were no more important than the turtles and the lizards (who they were commonly compared to). The European colonists treated them like shit, and they were likened to vermin to be killed or run from their own land. Moreover, if they were NOT KILLED, they were ENSLAVED as animals and often hauled miles away to be used as animals. Whole societies, their structures, their libraries, their ways of life were destroyed ... because they were 'niggers' from the racist perspective, a waste of flesh on their own landscape. Words have power, and no other word has had more negative power than the word nigger, negra, nigga applied to people, however they want to pronounce it. It was created by drunken pirate exiles calling themselves pilgrims for Jesus, and like Cortez they killed not only in the name of Jesus (blaspheming against Christianity with their actions), but destroying the self concepts and self identities in their victims. This is why it pains me so much to hear that scar coming out of our own mouths, calling each other nigger. Remember that scene from Roots where Kunta Kinte was beaten into saying his name was Toby? Well, that was the nice version. Most victims weren't given a name until much later, and that name was subject to change. After all, when you have multiple different people beating you, they were each apt to give you another name, like dogs.
So, to answer the question: What is a nigger? Unlike the explanation given by Whoopi Goldberg on Hollywood Squares using the word Nigardly (which by the way means selfish) as the starting point, the word nigger (negro'r) is an opportunity for Satan to walk the Earth in the form of the racists themselves. It's written as "negro'r" on the pirate cargo manifests if you look closely. But, as Martin Luther King, Jr. put it there is no greater evil in the universe than racism. Racism uses the word nigger as an OPPORTUNITY to colorize a victim population, via skin color in this case, (as opposed to the one used against the Jews) in order to make the victim feel dirty. I sincerely believe that racists have trouble with the color because its the color of shit, as they say. It's the color that they associate with potty training and filth from birth with nothing else to reference it to. But, if you take the time to think about two things, (1) the real skin coloring agent is MELANIN, if you have never been told that, and (2) when shit gets old, doesn't it turn ..... "white"? These are dreadful metaphors (please stop calling each other names), but nonetheless they are the things I've heard directed at me personally. Remember what that olympic athlete said about that nigger jungle smell? And she got away with it.
What I'm definitely not doing is endorsing racism in any way against anyone. Nor am I ashamed of the way that I look or anyone else's physical appearance. But, it's the LANGUAGE that has formulated a VERY REAL TRAP of sorts, a human conceptual rat trap BASED ONLY ON HOW PEOPLE FEEL ABOUT COLORS! It is so important to realize that if this could happen to the dark skinned people of Africa (the worst victims) then a human rat trap can be fashioned for ANYONE. Imagine a cargo hold of people selected on the basis of hair color, or the most funky athletic smell, or ear lobe shape. etc. Sounds stupid? Well, Adolph Hitler got away with it, as well as Sadam Huessen, and Idi Amin Dada. There are other examples like what's happened in Rawanda, Vietnam's killing fields, and Basnia. What they have in common is a conceptual target (a human rat) and those who would carry out extermination against a target population, against rats in a trap!!!
What is a nigger? It's just one of the most classic examples of this targetting mechanism, an opportunity to be stupid, designed to make the victims associate themselves with the opposite "color concept" on a political pinwheel. The multiple cultures, languages, and the wealth of personal self interpretations have been lost. Who knows who the first people in those dark animal cargo holds really were? No one has asked, really. Will it happen again? Definitely. We have to keep our eyes open. France today is a good example of how things can get out of hand. I want to leave you with this: NO ONE BELONGS IN A RAT TRAP!!! THERE IS REALLY NO SUCH THING AS A NIGGER!!! ANON!!!
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Handling 2 jobs, a nightmare ....... whew!
Soooooooo, here I am on January 28, 2015 and what a serious nightmare my post Katrina life has been. It started with me having to get back to work during 2005 which was the year that I went on leave. I ended up in Rapides Parish looking for a job. I tried Pineville High, they rejected me. Then, I tried a few other schools in the area, they rejected me. I was a certified lifeguard so I tried to sell my assets in that area, but I most certainly scared the poor lifeguard on duty at LSU Alexandria (he even threw me a life buoy after I demonstrated that I could swim 500 yards. I even applied (and took the test for) the local adolescent-female mentally ill home. I would have taken that job, but that very day I got the call from Tioga Jr. High School to come in for an interview. Apparantly, according to the principal John Grimes I was "not going to get anything else", he laughed jokingly. So, laughing right back (and quite hungry) I accepted the invite, did the interview, and went through the long procedure of signing up for Rapides Parish Public School teacher. It was fun, all in all, the 5 or so months I sat in for the regular 8th grade science teacher (she was expecting). But, alas as with the generation of today you either connect with them or you don't.
On some issues my traditional learning cycle methodology worked. On other levels, however, I proved to be more of a true physics high school teacher than the BIOLOGY substitute teacher that they planned for me to be. So, shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! on certain issues like Creationism, procreation, sexual developmental points of view (like revealing to students that we're all hermaprodites in the womb) I was shocking to say the least. Actually, I was right down offensive to certain foreign students who, as children go, were revulsed at the thought that the sexual organs originated from the same 'budding' system, i.e., ovaries are testicles, etc., etc. You get the picture .... things that I knew about, but things you prooooobably don't want somebody like me teaching your kids, if you're conservative, racist, and/or squeemish to a great degree.
At the end of December 2005 (that year I was on leave, remember?) I was exhausted still getting over the pneumonia, Katrina, and the death of my father from earlier that year. I couldn't get through to the kids even with the biology and environmental science experience I had. So, since I had made several trips to what was left of New Orleans already and surveyed the house I made plans to leave Central Louisiana and return 'home' (or what was left of it). I got back with all my stuff after several trips placing much of the stuff into storage and the rest at my aunt's house. The trailer we'd ordered through FEMA arrived so thank God I had someplace to stay. The next thing to do was secure employment. I'd worked at Channel 32 before during the spring and summers of 1986 (the Papal Visit) and 1987 (The Republican Presendential candidate campaign). It was sooooo much fun and I had just re-enrolled at UNO in Electrical Engineering (that's another story). I volunteered at Ch 32 again just as I did decades ago and, as luck would have it Ch 12 needed some place to shack up so they were there as well. That's funny because Ch 12 happened to be at Ch 32 back at the seminary on Carrolton Ave. one of the years back in the 80's.
At first it was a love love relationship. We got along very well I being one of the only people that would walk into the rain soaked and hurricane destroyed building. It looked like swiss cheese. Holes in the roof, the walls, and not really a place to run a business based on electronics. It was a mess, but I helped the engineers and technicians rebuild just enough to run the place producing, recording from satellite, and broadcasting shows. We were in love ... until, you know, I proved to be a heterosexual in the land of communications majors. Everyone knows that music, art, communications, and some teaching areas are no no's for guys who really like women. Over the months and years, especially as the talent returned, I became less and less popular. Special 'eyes' were focused on me in relation to my proximity with certain members of the crew, especially certain talented hosts/producers/directors. The montra was "David, David, he's our man, if he can't do it (ahem, get the technical shit work done) nobody can." That was all of 2006. By the second month of 2007 I was handed my walking papers. By June, I was definitely out! But, I'd been advised to take my retirement fund from the public school system which gave me a solid nest egg for a good number of months ... that is until Bob Gass from Channel 4 gave me a call on the day that I was standing in the middle of the Public School system headquarters parking lot. To make a long story short, I was to be a master control operator again .... BUT OVERNIGHT, GRAVEYARD SHIFT. Yes, if you saw some of the crazy things that went on overnight at Channel 4 from 2007 to 2014, I was probably responsible for either causing it or saving the station from it. At first, admittedly I worked tape deck watching others do their tasks ... including other master control operators. Then, after a probationary time period, it was my turn. I had my goofs, and then there was that time a whole 8 hours of my on-air computer log was missing. Thus, I had to go in and create 8 hours of a schedule (not knowing yet how to download the log from the master computer).
I worked this shift not knowing that loosing sleep, pain killers to get to sleep during the day, antacids to calm my stomach, gallons of coffee (not decaf), and of course the most unhealthy food of the region was increasing my blood pressure. I ended up in the emergency room a couple of times not realizing that I was grossly overweight, and yet malnourished. I was a hot mess of nerves, that is, until about 5 years into this disaster I called my life I got recertified as a lifeguard. Master control really did not pay that well for someone still trying to finish school, and so I needed another source of income. So, get this, in addition to television, I was also volunteering as a musician at Ocscher Hospital (as I did for 7 years or so), and I decided to go to EMT school. So, I had 2 jobs, my volunteer job, EMT school, and maybe 3 hours of sleep between the day shift and the night shift. Lucky for me I got the bright idea to start swimming miles AND LOSING THE WEIGHT! I eventually was assigned the task of teaching aerobics after I was moved from Harrell Playground to the Joe Brown Park facility. I was pooped, however, and it showed. Over the summer when given the chance I would go on leave opting to take my vacation from the television station (CH 4) at the same time. I would usually go to visit my mom up north (who I should have never separated from after Katrina, technically). But, during the summer of 2014 I got really adventurous and embarked on a 2 week vacation trip to Los Angeles, where I have relatives from both my mother and my father's side of the family. It was a blast, and I needed to get away from New Orleans (which is not really recovering in the direction I wanted it to after Katrina). It was time for me to leave, even though on the week before I was to leave my first cousin lost his life to special complications. So, very sorryful, I left the very day of the funeral, not getting a chance to say goodbye like his relatives from California and around the country probably wanted me to. So, we criss crossed, as they made their way from L. A., I happily made my way toward my Pacific destination. I kept Chris in mind, but I enjoyed the vacation to the fullest visiting Venice Beach, Man's Chinese Theater and Hollywood Blvd., and other places I had enough cash to visit. I even got the invite to visit, and stay with, relatives who I'd not seen for decades. I even met a relative I never actually met (Freddie) but had talked to frequently. The train trip to and from the Pacific Coast was a blast, too.
Then, I got back home .... got the old dogs out of the vet, and attempted to return to life as I was living it, such as it was. But, fate had something else in mind for me. Even though I had been barely getting by on the two jobs that I had, I eventually got the word that Channel 4 was letting me go, right after I had gotten out of that fire engine red Mustang and into an economical Fiat Sport 500. I was so excited to be paying $200.00 less for the Fiat than the Mustang and would soon make the payoff on the reduced priced vehicle after trading in the "fire engine mobile". "Fine", I thought, "no more dirty looks from people thinking that the Mustang was out of my price range anyway". That's just when I got word that I was being laid off from the station. What's more, I was getting paid less as a year round lifeguard anyway. So, I voluntarily left that job at the same time.
Then, it finally hit me .... nothing to do! I searched and searched, even getting ready to file for unemployment. I'd gotten a of song copyrighted and spent some time LOOKING FOR AN ARTIST TO PERFORM IT as well. Write me at MrDavidCJohnson@aol.com if you are interested, I'll let you hear it. Probably later on today, not kidding, it will be on MySpace along with another song I wrote. You'll like it.
Anywayz, I registered with the local GOODWILL UNEMPLOYMENT agency, nice people. You're asking why I didn't just apply as an experienced Master Control Engineer at another local television. Really, I'm not the disaster I may portray myself as, but there were so many things to learn at one time one after another with NO ONE to show me, the GRAVEYARD SHIFT GUY, how to get out of jams that I had to TEACH MYSELF how to do it all. I applied to Channel 6, Channel 38, Channel 26, Channel 49, and I was even escorted out of Channel 12 twice I believe for even showing up asking for a job. I presented my resume to some of them and upon revealing my intention to graduate in Electrical Engineering with a full salary, I was sneered at and shown the door.
Sooooooo, I had been friends with the Security Guards at the television stations. I guess I'll finally train for the job. I did it, and Vinson Guard Service responded. I should say here I actually did a little 4 day stint as a waiter at Cafe Du Monde. Now, that I both liked, and hated. I trained at it, and most people were very helpful and nice. But, the one thing about waiting tables is that what people see on the menu is NOT what the business puts in the waiter's head to learn. 4 begneits are actually 'an order' and a medium coco is actually 'a large', and so on an so forth. Whew! I am NOT a waiter! At the same time Vinson hired me, I'd applied to Delgado Community College's Science Tutoring center in an attempt to get back into teaching to some degree. I even know the Physics Department Chair from us both being at Xavier. So, once again, I had two jobs at the same time, just what I financially needed, but not really what I wanted. And, as one could guess it wasn't long before there emerged a TIME CONFLICT between the tutoring center and the security guarding. I was going to have to piss off one or both employers at one point in time. But, since Vinson was the moneymaker it would have to be the 'flexibly houred' tutoring center to take the hit once in a while. Wouldn't you know it, however, after all those years working overnight a guard position opened overnight as well. I took it: 12 hours straight from 7 pm to 7 am driving around guarding parked vehicles in a private neighborhood. But, as explained, the tutoring center needed me and I was originally assigned to close the facility. But, the times overlapped and I had to leave to do my security job and could not close the tutoring center. After all, I wasn't the only one tutoring... eh?
Well, not until this semester when my good friend and partner in crime who covered for me actually had to leave to pursue his life goals. Thus, when returning this semester and seeing the gaping hole in the daytime tutoring schedule, I TOOK IT! There were still night time tutors. Well, due to a very large problem associated with high blood pressure (which I have since beaten and don't want to acquire again) and just not feeling a tight fit with the guard service, I am deciding to leave it. But, me and the tutoring center are still sparring about the fact that they hired me to work nights, but it's more convenient for me to work mornings for the time being. The poing is that it's really not a career, after all, and admittedly they were used to hiring students who had just taken the course to tutor other students, and I'm used to having ALOT of flexibility with the topic of tutoring others. I actually opened my own tutoring business to teach music, art, physics, math, chemistry, etc. and all things that students might need.
Meanwhile, over the Christmas holidays I decided to write "Forgiveness & Avoiding the Negativity Trap!" (on Amazon by the way). That is where I hope to make some change, as my dad would say. Between that and the song I should be living pretty well off, but they have to catch on somewhere. All that I can say is that I'm praying .... for the intercession of St. Jude I'm praying for a Miracle. With the intercession of St. Anthony I'm praying for a Miracle. I may not be at the tutoring center much longer as per the fact that it does not pay that well anyway. I need a career!! I pray for others, please pray for me. Thanks. :)
On some issues my traditional learning cycle methodology worked. On other levels, however, I proved to be more of a true physics high school teacher than the BIOLOGY substitute teacher that they planned for me to be. So, shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! on certain issues like Creationism, procreation, sexual developmental points of view (like revealing to students that we're all hermaprodites in the womb) I was shocking to say the least. Actually, I was right down offensive to certain foreign students who, as children go, were revulsed at the thought that the sexual organs originated from the same 'budding' system, i.e., ovaries are testicles, etc., etc. You get the picture .... things that I knew about, but things you prooooobably don't want somebody like me teaching your kids, if you're conservative, racist, and/or squeemish to a great degree.
At the end of December 2005 (that year I was on leave, remember?) I was exhausted still getting over the pneumonia, Katrina, and the death of my father from earlier that year. I couldn't get through to the kids even with the biology and environmental science experience I had. So, since I had made several trips to what was left of New Orleans already and surveyed the house I made plans to leave Central Louisiana and return 'home' (or what was left of it). I got back with all my stuff after several trips placing much of the stuff into storage and the rest at my aunt's house. The trailer we'd ordered through FEMA arrived so thank God I had someplace to stay. The next thing to do was secure employment. I'd worked at Channel 32 before during the spring and summers of 1986 (the Papal Visit) and 1987 (The Republican Presendential candidate campaign). It was sooooo much fun and I had just re-enrolled at UNO in Electrical Engineering (that's another story). I volunteered at Ch 32 again just as I did decades ago and, as luck would have it Ch 12 needed some place to shack up so they were there as well. That's funny because Ch 12 happened to be at Ch 32 back at the seminary on Carrolton Ave. one of the years back in the 80's.
At first it was a love love relationship. We got along very well I being one of the only people that would walk into the rain soaked and hurricane destroyed building. It looked like swiss cheese. Holes in the roof, the walls, and not really a place to run a business based on electronics. It was a mess, but I helped the engineers and technicians rebuild just enough to run the place producing, recording from satellite, and broadcasting shows. We were in love ... until, you know, I proved to be a heterosexual in the land of communications majors. Everyone knows that music, art, communications, and some teaching areas are no no's for guys who really like women. Over the months and years, especially as the talent returned, I became less and less popular. Special 'eyes' were focused on me in relation to my proximity with certain members of the crew, especially certain talented hosts/producers/directors. The montra was "David, David, he's our man, if he can't do it (ahem, get the technical shit work done) nobody can." That was all of 2006. By the second month of 2007 I was handed my walking papers. By June, I was definitely out! But, I'd been advised to take my retirement fund from the public school system which gave me a solid nest egg for a good number of months ... that is until Bob Gass from Channel 4 gave me a call on the day that I was standing in the middle of the Public School system headquarters parking lot. To make a long story short, I was to be a master control operator again .... BUT OVERNIGHT, GRAVEYARD SHIFT. Yes, if you saw some of the crazy things that went on overnight at Channel 4 from 2007 to 2014, I was probably responsible for either causing it or saving the station from it. At first, admittedly I worked tape deck watching others do their tasks ... including other master control operators. Then, after a probationary time period, it was my turn. I had my goofs, and then there was that time a whole 8 hours of my on-air computer log was missing. Thus, I had to go in and create 8 hours of a schedule (not knowing yet how to download the log from the master computer).
I worked this shift not knowing that loosing sleep, pain killers to get to sleep during the day, antacids to calm my stomach, gallons of coffee (not decaf), and of course the most unhealthy food of the region was increasing my blood pressure. I ended up in the emergency room a couple of times not realizing that I was grossly overweight, and yet malnourished. I was a hot mess of nerves, that is, until about 5 years into this disaster I called my life I got recertified as a lifeguard. Master control really did not pay that well for someone still trying to finish school, and so I needed another source of income. So, get this, in addition to television, I was also volunteering as a musician at Ocscher Hospital (as I did for 7 years or so), and I decided to go to EMT school. So, I had 2 jobs, my volunteer job, EMT school, and maybe 3 hours of sleep between the day shift and the night shift. Lucky for me I got the bright idea to start swimming miles AND LOSING THE WEIGHT! I eventually was assigned the task of teaching aerobics after I was moved from Harrell Playground to the Joe Brown Park facility. I was pooped, however, and it showed. Over the summer when given the chance I would go on leave opting to take my vacation from the television station (CH 4) at the same time. I would usually go to visit my mom up north (who I should have never separated from after Katrina, technically). But, during the summer of 2014 I got really adventurous and embarked on a 2 week vacation trip to Los Angeles, where I have relatives from both my mother and my father's side of the family. It was a blast, and I needed to get away from New Orleans (which is not really recovering in the direction I wanted it to after Katrina). It was time for me to leave, even though on the week before I was to leave my first cousin lost his life to special complications. So, very sorryful, I left the very day of the funeral, not getting a chance to say goodbye like his relatives from California and around the country probably wanted me to. So, we criss crossed, as they made their way from L. A., I happily made my way toward my Pacific destination. I kept Chris in mind, but I enjoyed the vacation to the fullest visiting Venice Beach, Man's Chinese Theater and Hollywood Blvd., and other places I had enough cash to visit. I even got the invite to visit, and stay with, relatives who I'd not seen for decades. I even met a relative I never actually met (Freddie) but had talked to frequently. The train trip to and from the Pacific Coast was a blast, too.
Then, I got back home .... got the old dogs out of the vet, and attempted to return to life as I was living it, such as it was. But, fate had something else in mind for me. Even though I had been barely getting by on the two jobs that I had, I eventually got the word that Channel 4 was letting me go, right after I had gotten out of that fire engine red Mustang and into an economical Fiat Sport 500. I was so excited to be paying $200.00 less for the Fiat than the Mustang and would soon make the payoff on the reduced priced vehicle after trading in the "fire engine mobile". "Fine", I thought, "no more dirty looks from people thinking that the Mustang was out of my price range anyway". That's just when I got word that I was being laid off from the station. What's more, I was getting paid less as a year round lifeguard anyway. So, I voluntarily left that job at the same time.
Then, it finally hit me .... nothing to do! I searched and searched, even getting ready to file for unemployment. I'd gotten a of song copyrighted and spent some time LOOKING FOR AN ARTIST TO PERFORM IT as well. Write me at MrDavidCJohnson@aol.com if you are interested, I'll let you hear it. Probably later on today, not kidding, it will be on MySpace along with another song I wrote. You'll like it.
Anywayz, I registered with the local GOODWILL UNEMPLOYMENT agency, nice people. You're asking why I didn't just apply as an experienced Master Control Engineer at another local television. Really, I'm not the disaster I may portray myself as, but there were so many things to learn at one time one after another with NO ONE to show me, the GRAVEYARD SHIFT GUY, how to get out of jams that I had to TEACH MYSELF how to do it all. I applied to Channel 6, Channel 38, Channel 26, Channel 49, and I was even escorted out of Channel 12 twice I believe for even showing up asking for a job. I presented my resume to some of them and upon revealing my intention to graduate in Electrical Engineering with a full salary, I was sneered at and shown the door.
Sooooooo, I had been friends with the Security Guards at the television stations. I guess I'll finally train for the job. I did it, and Vinson Guard Service responded. I should say here I actually did a little 4 day stint as a waiter at Cafe Du Monde. Now, that I both liked, and hated. I trained at it, and most people were very helpful and nice. But, the one thing about waiting tables is that what people see on the menu is NOT what the business puts in the waiter's head to learn. 4 begneits are actually 'an order' and a medium coco is actually 'a large', and so on an so forth. Whew! I am NOT a waiter! At the same time Vinson hired me, I'd applied to Delgado Community College's Science Tutoring center in an attempt to get back into teaching to some degree. I even know the Physics Department Chair from us both being at Xavier. So, once again, I had two jobs at the same time, just what I financially needed, but not really what I wanted. And, as one could guess it wasn't long before there emerged a TIME CONFLICT between the tutoring center and the security guarding. I was going to have to piss off one or both employers at one point in time. But, since Vinson was the moneymaker it would have to be the 'flexibly houred' tutoring center to take the hit once in a while. Wouldn't you know it, however, after all those years working overnight a guard position opened overnight as well. I took it: 12 hours straight from 7 pm to 7 am driving around guarding parked vehicles in a private neighborhood. But, as explained, the tutoring center needed me and I was originally assigned to close the facility. But, the times overlapped and I had to leave to do my security job and could not close the tutoring center. After all, I wasn't the only one tutoring... eh?
Well, not until this semester when my good friend and partner in crime who covered for me actually had to leave to pursue his life goals. Thus, when returning this semester and seeing the gaping hole in the daytime tutoring schedule, I TOOK IT! There were still night time tutors. Well, due to a very large problem associated with high blood pressure (which I have since beaten and don't want to acquire again) and just not feeling a tight fit with the guard service, I am deciding to leave it. But, me and the tutoring center are still sparring about the fact that they hired me to work nights, but it's more convenient for me to work mornings for the time being. The poing is that it's really not a career, after all, and admittedly they were used to hiring students who had just taken the course to tutor other students, and I'm used to having ALOT of flexibility with the topic of tutoring others. I actually opened my own tutoring business to teach music, art, physics, math, chemistry, etc. and all things that students might need.
Meanwhile, over the Christmas holidays I decided to write "Forgiveness & Avoiding the Negativity Trap!" (on Amazon by the way). That is where I hope to make some change, as my dad would say. Between that and the song I should be living pretty well off, but they have to catch on somewhere. All that I can say is that I'm praying .... for the intercession of St. Jude I'm praying for a Miracle. With the intercession of St. Anthony I'm praying for a Miracle. I may not be at the tutoring center much longer as per the fact that it does not pay that well anyway. I need a career!! I pray for others, please pray for me. Thanks. :)
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Forbidden Pleasures ..... is sex real?
Sex ... I often wonder what I'm missing. But, I can imagine can't I? As I lay all alone, covered only with my warm sheets and cotton spread I can feel a presence. The room is dark, just after sunset and I'm so tired from work. I just took off everything, took a long shower wondering just what would do tonight. I nestled into bed knowing I wasn't alone, that my significant other was here.
Then, I felt myself spooning from the front a delicate warm form interrupting my sudden lite sleep. Without uttering a whisper I felt that hair that I knew so well, but it was longer now, silkier. The muscular yet lean back of my athletic lover pressed into my abdomen. There was a thin film of sweat as those shoulders pushed themselves back into mine, that liquid film acting as a lubricant. We both acknowledged each other's presence as I folded my arms around that tantilizing front, each hand cupping a precious prize. Those loving hands then grabbed mine as I planted a kiss first on one side of the neck, then the other, then the middle. From here I'll let your imaginations interpret what happened next.
Turning to face me, pushing that hair out of the way, our eyes met each other in the dimming light as our lips made contact. Over and over again our lips met, our tongues doing a playful dance slipping and sliding over one another. Our voices made the sound of an angelic choir consisting of just us two ... the sheets forming our wings wrapped around each other. Time itself stopped as we formed our own rainforest of moisture and heat, our own living ecosystem. We floated, that is melted, into each other's arms as the involuntary reflexes took over. Passion kiss after kiss accentuated the fact that we were no longer two, but one entity. Our love act had a beginning, a middle (and crescendo), and finally .... well, something that I cannot quite describe. As we both fell playfully into sleep I can only remember those arms and legs wrapped around me. We were wrapped around each other .... until the dark warmth enveloped us both. Anon.
Then, I felt myself spooning from the front a delicate warm form interrupting my sudden lite sleep. Without uttering a whisper I felt that hair that I knew so well, but it was longer now, silkier. The muscular yet lean back of my athletic lover pressed into my abdomen. There was a thin film of sweat as those shoulders pushed themselves back into mine, that liquid film acting as a lubricant. We both acknowledged each other's presence as I folded my arms around that tantilizing front, each hand cupping a precious prize. Those loving hands then grabbed mine as I planted a kiss first on one side of the neck, then the other, then the middle. From here I'll let your imaginations interpret what happened next.
Turning to face me, pushing that hair out of the way, our eyes met each other in the dimming light as our lips made contact. Over and over again our lips met, our tongues doing a playful dance slipping and sliding over one another. Our voices made the sound of an angelic choir consisting of just us two ... the sheets forming our wings wrapped around each other. Time itself stopped as we formed our own rainforest of moisture and heat, our own living ecosystem. We floated, that is melted, into each other's arms as the involuntary reflexes took over. Passion kiss after kiss accentuated the fact that we were no longer two, but one entity. Our love act had a beginning, a middle (and crescendo), and finally .... well, something that I cannot quite describe. As we both fell playfully into sleep I can only remember those arms and legs wrapped around me. We were wrapped around each other .... until the dark warmth enveloped us both. Anon.
Monday, January 26, 2015
We all go a little mad sometimes ........ etc. etc. still Forgive!!!!
Kinda weird of me to quote a line from Alfred Hitchcock's Norman Bates in my title. But, look at the fact that it is one of the most famous movies of all time for a reason: we identify with the character(s) that we see in ourselves (Norman, his mother, his victims, the townsfolk, ole Arbogast, etc). "Ummm ... Dave, are you NUTS!" lolz. We all go a little mad sometimes. Heck, I'm giving my book away for FREE on KDP Select .... NOW THAT'S NUTS!!! Nawww, not really. After that last blog, and about a dozen others I've done, I'm probably on some FBI, CIA, etc. list of potential crazies. It's all in the cards .... hehe (have to read my book to see what that means).
Don't think so negatively about Norman, however. He was just some guy who wasn't blessed enough to have a loving upbringing or the ability to correct that which corrupted him. It was actually his environment (and the rearing practices of the times)that was responsible for him becoming a killer. He was actually a nice guy, aside from being homicidal. (Ok, bad joke.)
But, real life women love that type of guy. That's the lure of Psycho. Nice lookin' fellow, all squirrely and all, perfect to push around ... just that living with his mother thing!! lolz. Yet, look at Ted Bundy at least. Even after finding out he was a creep women flocked to him wanting his hand in marriage.
The point I'm trying to make is that female, and more specifically feminine, emotions can be fooled by their own standards. Everyone knows why O J Simpson was hated.
But, how did Scott Peterson get away with the murder of Lacy for so long? Or Joran Vandersloot, or Manson for that matter. Why so long in getting to them? And just why did Tiger Woods have to apologize to the world interrupting national programming for a private incident between him and his now ex-wife?
Finally, ole 'puddin-poppin-poppin-puddy-pimp-daddy Bill Cosby is transformed (due to a comedian's joke) into sex public enemy number one. Imagine that, Barbara Eden didn't have a naval and who knew daddy Bill Cosby had a dick?
C'mon, after Kevin Clash that had to be the reason for that attack on Cosby: to try to finish his career by rumor and anonymous accusations. After all, in this racially charged environment who knew that Bill Cosby was a frequent guest at the Playboy manor and even a host to many official Playboy events and shows?
Here's what the accusing powers that be have to do if they want sex crimes to stick:
1) Indict the ACTUALLY GUILTY WITH PROOF!!!
(not just rumors and heresay)
2) Get your shit straight and stop cowering and
waiting and crying, etc. Nail the bastard if he's
guilty!!! Get your individual accounts together
on a timeline along with a forensic team and
nail him!! (Please ... I mean it!!!)
3) Explain to me why women typically protect the
actually guilty and worship them until the
'lover' kills them.
4) Prove to me (and I mean this) that this is
NOT a pedophile anti-straight plot utilizing the
gay atmosphere today to 'guilt' more men into
bed with other men and turn them off to women.
(that's what's been happening to me for a long
time ...)
5) AND THIS IS PERSONAL: SMEARING a person's
career when he's a role model can virtually do
nothing to him, but the rest of us (especially
black males) suffer indirectly just for looking like
the accused. (Why the hell grill me about OJ's
innocence or guilt? Did that change anything but
MY life depending on what I say?)
6) Finally, no matter how you FEEL about a target
issue this hot, it all sounds racist-political to me.
You should know I'm not changing one blessed
aspect of my already developed life because of O
J, Tim Rice, Tiger Woods, 2 Live Crew, or any of
the other images used to describe pimpology. You
know why?
The REASON
Because you're still dating your Clous Van Bulo's, protecting blatant call girl prostitution in the French Quarter in New Orleans, and gosh know's what else!!! I got so mad that I partook in a shameful activity at one point in time: I cheered for the serial killer in horror movies each time he scored against a female victim (after all they always managed to date him!) I was doomed to be just another lone black male from the racist point of view sitting there because people were afraid of me anyway ... "the jerk." Loneliness ate me alive until I realized that, before I learned of Forgiveness and the Holy Spirit, I was wrong ... so very wrong. I was eventually hospitalized becaming so sick with grief and hate from being alone. But, one thing about me: I'll NEVER FORCE MYSELF ON ANYONE!! And, I stopped myself before I was to become one of the creeps I was cheering for.
It hasn't been easy being this honest. But, you need to know that as you force men into that 'gay best friend' role, many of them are just as hurt and confused as you target them to be. Women in particular like that Norman Bates stuffing birds in the parlor look in men, especially those men they defeat. But, I'm here to tell you: BEWARE! That hair dresser may not be your best friend at all. Are you sure your 'gay son' really is gay or the transexual he claims to be. It's too late when the inner self hatred wins. It's your turn now, ladies, and lady want to beees. FORGIVE!!! Amen.
Saturday, January 24, 2015
I am the Virgin Man!!!!!
I'm gonna come clean with you guys!!! It involves a little game I play with the help of the layout of my book. Those two suits of cards, the good suit and the bad suit have to do with a little game which I devised for myself ... you're gonna love it. I give myself Virgin Man points with each negative encounter. That's right, each card gives me points depending on the member of the suit I encounter whether negative or positive ... I get the points for recognizing the phenomenon. You see, I am a VIRGIN, who else would think of this?! Never had sex in my life. Ya wanna know why? Racism ... pure and simple.
It took me a long time to figure something out about this RACIST SOCIETY! You see, it's the false nature of things, like yin yang but only A PERVERTED INVERTED UNNATURALNESS ACTUALLY! You see, the racists are actually so vain that they, like the devil, have convinced the world that hateful wrong is right to do. My actual problem, getting right to the point, is that I find myself, A MOTHMAN STEREOTYPE, trapped behind an EIGHTBALL SHADOW OF LIES! Thus, the NIGGA, the racist word for black male in particular is marginalized into two types of racist fantasy figures: UNCLE TOMS (feminine/gay stereotypes not man enough) and THUGS (the opposite extreme of crafty evil pimp mindedness, the wolf you know them)!!! The RACIST WORLD is constantly asking me personally which one I happen to be. I was under the impression that racism was over in my childhood, something of the past that you saw in black and white movies and TV shows and old radio broadcasts. So, I'm either being appealed to as being Amos and Andy (Uncle Toms), or Shaft villian pimps (Bill Cosby played one of these types in Uptown Saturday night by the way).
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<VS>>>>>>>>>>
Look at these choices! What a set of choices for women to choose from, but these mythological images are the starting point for the decisions that people are still making. Didn't Bill Cosby himself make a documentary about 'negro' stereotypes. It can be found at usslave.blogspot.com/2012/03/bill-cosbys
IN A NUTSHELL, I REFUSE TO LET MYSELF BE PLAYED BY THESE OR ANY OTHER PRECONCEIVED PREJUDICES THAT RACISTS HAVE ABOUT ME!
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > Stop thinking of controlling me to stop crime!
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > My sex life is nobody's business!
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > You still have real criminals to deal with!
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > What was the Ted Bundy Bride Club??
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > What was the Charles Manson Fan Club?
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > What is the true outcome you seek?
GOT IT!!! GOOD!!! I'LL BE WAITING WHERE ALL INTELLIGENT MODERN MEN WAIT: Where I don't have to be anything but what I know that I am.
Racists think I have to ask them permission about my identity.
That is WRONG!
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > I am a Virgin, not your stalker!
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > I wouldn't touch you to scratch you if you fear me.
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > Racism is sooo pedophile, I'm not a child.
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > There are women who like men like me.
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > They are not whores, but my PRINCESSES!
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > I am not your enemy, stop seeing me that way!
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > Charles Manson is getting married, lucky girl!
IF YOU APPEAL TO ME AS SOMEONE/SOMETHING ELSE, I WILL NOT RESPOND!!!!
AND NO STEREOTYPE WILL SUFFICE!!!
NUFF SAID?!? HAVE A NICE DAY!!!
It took me a long time to figure something out about this RACIST SOCIETY! You see, it's the false nature of things, like yin yang but only A PERVERTED INVERTED UNNATURALNESS ACTUALLY! You see, the racists are actually so vain that they, like the devil, have convinced the world that hateful wrong is right to do. My actual problem, getting right to the point, is that I find myself, A MOTHMAN STEREOTYPE, trapped behind an EIGHTBALL SHADOW OF LIES! Thus, the NIGGA, the racist word for black male in particular is marginalized into two types of racist fantasy figures: UNCLE TOMS (feminine/gay stereotypes not man enough) and THUGS (the opposite extreme of crafty evil pimp mindedness, the wolf you know them)!!! The RACIST WORLD is constantly asking me personally which one I happen to be. I was under the impression that racism was over in my childhood, something of the past that you saw in black and white movies and TV shows and old radio broadcasts. So, I'm either being appealed to as being Amos and Andy (Uncle Toms), or Shaft villian pimps (Bill Cosby played one of these types in Uptown Saturday night by the way).
Look at these choices! What a set of choices for women to choose from, but these mythological images are the starting point for the decisions that people are still making. Didn't Bill Cosby himself make a documentary about 'negro' stereotypes. It can be found at usslave.blogspot.com/2012/03/bill-cosbys
IN A NUTSHELL, I REFUSE TO LET MYSELF BE PLAYED BY THESE OR ANY OTHER PRECONCEIVED PREJUDICES THAT RACISTS HAVE ABOUT ME!
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > Stop thinking of controlling me to stop crime!
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > My sex life is nobody's business!
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > You still have real criminals to deal with!
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > What was the Ted Bundy Bride Club??
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > What was the Charles Manson Fan Club?
THUS, I AM NOT A RAPIST, NOR AM I GAY! > What is the true outcome you seek?
GOT IT!!! GOOD!!! I'LL BE WAITING WHERE ALL INTELLIGENT MODERN MEN WAIT: Where I don't have to be anything but what I know that I am.
Racists think I have to ask them permission about my identity.
That is WRONG!
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > I am a Virgin, not your stalker!
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > I wouldn't touch you to scratch you if you fear me.
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > Racism is sooo pedophile, I'm not a child.
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > There are women who like men like me.
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > They are not whores, but my PRINCESSES!
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > I am not your enemy, stop seeing me that way!
YOU HAVE TO ASK ME WHO I AM!!!! > Charles Manson is getting married, lucky girl!
IF YOU APPEAL TO ME AS SOMEONE/SOMETHING ELSE, I WILL NOT RESPOND!!!!
AND NO STEREOTYPE WILL SUFFICE!!!
NUFF SAID?!? HAVE A NICE DAY!!!
Saturday January 24, 2015 ........some bosses .........dang!
Well, I goofed slightly in scheduling my hours at my tutoring center where I'm only supposed to have a certain number of hours per week. Getting right to the point, however, I drew, haha, two overtime hours more than I was supposed to have. I discovered this snafoo days ago, so technically this was to a certain degree my fault. But, the person I needed to tell about this was busy, not in, hell just not there. A short history about my relationship with the tutoring center. At first they were elated to see me and I was elated to have a daytime job after being laid off from Channel 4. But, I'm used to a set schedule and a competent time keeping computer system, that is to say one that is seen by all relevant bosses. If you're gonna call yourself that. But, an incident occurred last semester whereby I learned that hours are rounded off at the nearest 15's and I had to go back and do alot of hours because there are 2 computer systems: one for your official schedule (the one I thought everyone saw) and the one that actually logs the hours you work, THE SPY COMPUTER as I call it.
Well, it didn't take long for me to get into trouble with the spy computer tallying up more hours than I'm contracted to work (hmmmm, nobody told me this shit!). So, of course with "no worries" being the montra, I had to go back and change/modify, count em, about 15 different log times to get rid of the off times that I had accrued, even though I technically worked those extra hours.
Whew, well what does that have to do with today? After last semester's horendous experience I decided to check my scheduled hours and sure enough I'd planned two overtime hours. I reported this last night thinking little of it. It was just two of the four hours I had to work on a Saturday and the other tutors would be there, right? RIGHT?? Did I say anything about not showing up for work at all??? Am I quitting??? Do I give the impression that I'm BACKING OUT!??!! Well, this is the response I got from my text the next morning? I have it in writing, verbatum!!!! I'm not the kind of guy who quits for nothing. I've been working for 16-20 hours straight in some capacity for the past ten years (between Channel 4 overnight and Lifeguarding during the day in my previous 2 jobs) and I have the emergency room bills and high blood pressure medication to prove it!!! Isn't it suspicious that just when I bought a new car with a lower car note that I was laid off from Channel 4 and assaulted at the swimming pool, smell like a conspiracy??? Well, that's a story for another time ... the reason why I had to go searching for 2 more jobs. (Which may happen very soon again.)
I have another question: If there is an emergency situation then why leave one person in charge of two labs? Why did everyone else go just when the 'emergency' took place and just when I had to report to my second job as a security guard? I certainly face some funny shit in my life ... and, I'm going to post every last one of them from here on out as they occur. Have fun, and do like Cameo said: BE YOURSELF! ALL IS FORGIVEN, BY THE WAY!!!! MAY THE HOLY SPIRIT BE WITH YOU ALL!!! I JUST CANNOT HOLD THIS ALL IN, LIKE BETWEEN A CHILD AND A PEDOPHILE!!! THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN TO ME AGAIN!!!! Amen.
Well, it didn't take long for me to get into trouble with the spy computer tallying up more hours than I'm contracted to work (hmmmm, nobody told me this shit!). So, of course with "no worries" being the montra, I had to go back and change/modify, count em, about 15 different log times to get rid of the off times that I had accrued, even though I technically worked those extra hours.
Whew, well what does that have to do with today? After last semester's horendous experience I decided to check my scheduled hours and sure enough I'd planned two overtime hours. I reported this last night thinking little of it. It was just two of the four hours I had to work on a Saturday and the other tutors would be there, right? RIGHT?? Did I say anything about not showing up for work at all??? Am I quitting??? Do I give the impression that I'm BACKING OUT!??!! Well, this is the response I got from my text the next morning? I have it in writing, verbatum!!!! I'm not the kind of guy who quits for nothing. I've been working for 16-20 hours straight in some capacity for the past ten years (between Channel 4 overnight and Lifeguarding during the day in my previous 2 jobs) and I have the emergency room bills and high blood pressure medication to prove it!!! Isn't it suspicious that just when I bought a new car with a lower car note that I was laid off from Channel 4 and assaulted at the swimming pool, smell like a conspiracy??? Well, that's a story for another time ... the reason why I had to go searching for 2 more jobs. (Which may happen very soon again.)
I have another question: If there is an emergency situation then why leave one person in charge of two labs? Why did everyone else go just when the 'emergency' took place and just when I had to report to my second job as a security guard? I certainly face some funny shit in my life ... and, I'm going to post every last one of them from here on out as they occur. Have fun, and do like Cameo said: BE YOURSELF! ALL IS FORGIVEN, BY THE WAY!!!! MAY THE HOLY SPIRIT BE WITH YOU ALL!!! I JUST CANNOT HOLD THIS ALL IN, LIKE BETWEEN A CHILD AND A PEDOPHILE!!! THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN TO ME AGAIN!!!! Amen.
Friday, January 23, 2015
Soft Spoken but big mouthed, too!
Well, believe it or not I'm going to be short and sweet on this first posting. That's right! I'm known for being rather long winded in my writing and I know how to YELL as well (although I'm not much on the cursing)! When I'm all full of fire and brimstone I preach like a sailor, for God of course, but, not today! I'm just gonna be peaceful, mainly because I just put one of my favorite pets to sleep ... Mr. Lucky, my friend. He is survived by his sister Ms. Melinda who is now all alone, both of them more then 16 years old as of this time. But, alas, it was his time to go. Rest in peace Mr. Lucky. Amen. (not his actual picture)
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