1-126!!! ..And the Path to the Dark Side?

So I was in early on a Saturday night due to “dizziness.” Not mine. I had gone to see a movie, Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, at Battery Park. Good movie, good company. But that’s where that chapter of that night ended.

I watched the end of SNL standing. Coldplay was on, and their sets provided appropriate background to my pacing around the dining room. After SNL ended, my roommate challenged me to ping pong. Why not? We jumped right into the game. Next thing I know the score was 10-2, me… and then 21-13, me. I had won my first game of ping pong against Kenji. He had won the previous 125 games straight. Pathetic, I know, but it is what it is. Anyway, victory as I had imagined it would be ELATION. I thought I would jump and scream and fucking go ape-shit when I finally won a game. Instead, I simply said “another?”.

The next morning while Steph was cooking us brunch (THANK YOU, STEPH! Your chocolate chip banana pancakes are to die for!), myself, Tamara, Kenji, and one of Steph’s friends fired up Mario Kart. Team race – Me and Tamara versus Kenji and […]. Let’s admit, I am easily the worst Mario Kart player in the apartment, I am usually good for between 10 and 20 points, as my team invariably loses. On this occasion I put up 46 points and Tamara and I won.

That afternoon, we played whiffle ball at the park under the Brooklyn Bridge. In a game to 10, I am normally good for about 3 or 4 runs; I contributed 8, including one homer that hit the bridge and one that went up onto the bridge. In two summers, I have only hit one whiffle ball onto the bridge --- and that’s when I was batting righty. I now bat lefty. It’s unusual.

Late that afternoon, I gave a friend a walking-tour of the financial district. I think two or three comments were made about how fast I was walking.

Tonight, I’ve punched out three blog entries since returning home from dinner at 10pm. Also, unusual.

I can’t quite speculate as to the source of this 4-day spout of focus, but let’s just hope it is more Luke than Anakin – more Jedi than Sith. Ah, have you missed the Star Wars references?

If you have, perhaps a Kanye Lyric:

I wanna a good girl she want a gentleman

We sayin' the same thing like a synonym

I wasn't really spittin game I was scrimmagin'

My pimpinship's so hard it needs censorship

I'ma chicagoan till Chicago ends

Till we blow like Chicago wind

I don't know what's better, gettin laid or gettin paid

I just know when I'm gettin one, the other's gettin away

This way

Incomplete Allegory, Part I of ???

I may never finish this, but wanted to share. This is the perfect post to follow the previous because I have (1) no idea what this is about, (2) no idea why I wrote this, (3) no idea where this is going. As you’ll see at the end, I came out of my “trance” literally mid-sentence and have sat on this for over two-weeks uninspired.


There was once a guy who was down on his luck
But he lived in New York City, so no one gave a fuck
He walked slow and solemn, barely responding to car horns and voices exclaiming “hey guy, move your ass and watch that stinking mutt!!!”

The mutt was Chuck; he’s been his companion for a couple of months.
Chuck whines, but doesn’t talk, so he never knows what he wants

A true pair – two of a kind, because _______ has no idea why or what sits so heavy on his mind
All he knows is it now takes 5 glasses of wine to unwind
And he feels like this all the time
It’s like November in a city where the sun never shines

But he needs no pity,
He rather enjoys feeling shitty
He deserves to feel this way, who else would be to blame for the reason he’s single at fifty
How many times could he have said yes when love said “If I leave will you miss me?”

Just kiss me… and that kiss would be goodbye
The door slamming shut would blow the tear from his eye
He’s that guy, his insides were very dry

Though he was always very nice
It’s just women don’t respond when they can sense you thinking twice
That’s just life, and now he has no wife
But Chuck would be all alone if ________ pushed through with this knife

Where did that come from? How did it get in his hands?
Last thing he recalls he was at the newsstand
How much for the paper? He demands.
What the hell!?!? She married that man!?!?

That’s Dan, and what a fucking douche’ bag
How many times did ___________ smile and shake hands with that ---
Now he proposed to her – and left him going stag
Just as well, anyway, good riddance to people who lie, deceive, and do shit like THAT

Where’s his hat?
It’s time to hail the next cab
Got to get some fresh air before he winds up leaving earth like his dad
That bad? No! So long as

I am not Psycho, I just say Psycho shit

I keep running into people who tell me my disclaimers are bullshit. They are correct. I know I can’t disclaim what I wrote, because if I didn’t mean it, then why would I write it. It would be similar to undergrad when I was open about hiding my crazy, but hid my crazy well – then, the joke/common-understanding was that my favorite key on the keyboard was backspace. Well, I still backspace, but only far less.

Without disclaimer, however, is justification. If nothing can be disclaimed, then certainly lots can be qualified or justified - I mean I have an advanced degree in the art. Hell, I’m trained in the art that got OJ off. Anyway, I digress.

So, what about this???

My new disclaimer…errrrr, I mean thoughts on the subject: I have no control over what I write. I don’t actually intend to say or write what I do. Sometimes I don’t intend to write when I am writing. Like, for example, right now – I am on the PATH train, it is packed, guy next to me was reading the Wall Street Journal, now he is straight reading the Bible. Now I am scared – what if he glances at what I just wrote and flips out…It is always the folk who would otherwise be reading the Bible on the train – especially followed by the WSJ, especially during these troubling financial times – who one might expect to randomly start slashing away at the face of the idiot person next to him who should have known better than to talk[write] shit about the person sitting right next to him. Perhaps, if I weren’t wearing earbuds, he’d be set to strike up a conversation about the end of the world and then slash me away to his maker. Okay – see, what’s what I mean, you think I intended to write that or even knew those words would come before they did? No. Hell-to-the-no.

Well, now you understand, that’s me. It’s like on Heroes when one of the countless characters who can paint the future zones out to do so. Their eyes roll back and turn all white and then they paint feverishly for several moments before snapping out of the trance only to inspect their work and gasp with shock. (See: http://heroeswiki.com/Precognition) It is certainly not quite that dramatic, but I can relate to an extent.

My first true experience with this was in high school during my first in-class stream-of-consciousness writing assignment. At first, I resisted. I must have known something was up because I was totally scared to write and wasted a few moments searching for the right words. However, we only had fifteen minutes so I started at the most logical place… I started writing about how I didn’t know what to write about. This soon morphed into how this assignment was a silly waste of time, but I disclaimed that thought immediately by kissing the teacher’s ass within in the next sentence or two about how I trusted the curriculum and owed it to myself to try… and then it happened, I let loose. Who knows what I actually wrote on the latter-half of that page, but the feedback was “interesting.” I’m sure it was.

You may wonder why this blog is called Another Law School Rapper. It is called such because I write rhymes. I don’t really call them raps because I’m not making music, but I also don’t call them poems because that just sounds lame. So where are these rhymes? That’s the point, I can’t share them. I’ve shared a few here and there, but most would (especially read out of context) make me look completely insane. I cannot share them unless you can fully embrace the concept of disclaimer. The disclaimer to my rhymes would be: I promise I do not mean or think half of what I just wrote; further, I promise these aren’t even my thoughts. This is why I am a big fan of Eminem and defend his lyrics ---- I truly believe him when he says:

My songs can make you cry, take you by surprise
And at the same time, make you dry your eyes with the same rhyme
So what you are seeing is a genius at work
Which to me isn’t work, so it’s easy to misinterpret it at first,
Cuz when I speak it’s tongue in cheek
I’d yank my fuckin teeth before I’d ever bite my tongue
I’d slice my gums, get struck by fucking lightening twice at once
And die and come back at Vanilla Ice’s son…

And so what’s really behind all this. I let an email fly sharing my thoughts. The thoughts were true, but could have been presented in a more clear and concise way. Again, unlike a Heroes character, I don’t gasp when I read my own product, but I certainly kick myself when I reread it and don’t even fully understand what it was that I was trying to say. If it is not clear to me, then it can be interpreted by others a million different ways. It is good if it is good, but it is bad if it is bad. I guess I can’t control how people interpret my words, just as I can’t disclaim anything….but just know I will justify and qualify until I see a smile. When I see a smile or even a nod, I’ll know that you know that I am not psycho, I just write psycho things.

Disclaimer: “You” doesn’t mean “you” per se, but can mean anyone and everyone. Seriously.

And if you choose to think "you" are you, please also choose to enjoy this song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=48emaMVhnBU&NR=1

HAHA.

What is a Conversation, anyway?

This morning had a conversation with a girl in the kitchen. Her: da-da-da-da, blah blah haha [ I wasn’t listening AT ALL ] so I responded “Oh really?!” She laughed and responded … da-da-da, blah blah, always helps… [I seriously couldn’t tune her in] I responded “alwaysssss.” She laughed, I turned to focus on getting my coffee, and she walked away like “have a good day!”

Whereas last night I was having a great conversation with a friend, catching up, and just talking --- 90 minutes worth. This is truly remarkable for me, since I rarely stay on the phone more than 15 minutes… seriously, I put everyone on a clock – my mother included. Anyway, at some point, we were touching on sort of a deep subject. I zoned into a monologue – I promise it was important, or seemingly so. At some point I said something and received silence. I’m like okay this is awkward. She said, “I have a confession; I missed the entire last ‘thing’ you said” – I had three things and she missed one. She asked me to repeat it… and I, for the life of me, could not remember what I said (I still can’t). I wasn’t even paying attention to myself!

…And you wonder why I rely on email and text.

Current State of Mind

Sorry, I cannot say it better than Mr. Mathers - even if I wanted to... Both the words (content - fear, awareness of self, frustration, optimism, awareness that road ahead is difficult, but that it must be traveled and there is no better time to start than the present) and delivery are right on point (tempo that expresses a sense of urgency, but not frantic and passion which expresses seriousness).

Delivery provided courtesy of YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bqP1TwuBiK8

Lyrics

Sometimes I just feel like, quittin I still might
Why do I put up this fight, why do I still write
Sometimes it's hard enough just dealin with real life
Sometimes I wanna jump on stage and just kill mics
And show these people what my level of skill's like
But I'm still white, sometimes I just hate life
Somethin ain't right, hit the brake lights
Case of the stage fright, drawin a blank like
Da-duh-duh-da-da, it ain't my fault
Great big eye balls, my insides crawl
and I clam up, i just slam shut
I just can't do it, my whole manhood's
just been stripped, I have just been evicted
So I must then get, hope to bust then split
Man fuck this shit yo, I'm goin the fuck home
World on my shoulders as I run back to this 8 Mile Road

[ Chorus ] I'm a man, I'ma make a new plan
Time for me to just stand up, and travel new land
Time FOR ME TO JUST take matters into my own hands
Once I'm over these tracks man I'ma never look back
(8 Mile Road) And I'm gone, I know right where I'm goin
Sorry momma I'm grown, I must travel alone
Ain't gon' follow no footsteps I'm makin my own
Only way that I know how to escape from this 8 Mile Road

I'm walkin these train tracks, tryin to regain back
the spirit I had 'fore I go back to the same crap
To the same plant, in the same pants
Tryin to chase rap, gotta move ASAP
And get a new plan, momma's got a new man
Poor little baby sister, she don't understand
Sits in front of the TV, buries her nose in the pad
And just colors until the crayon gets dull in her hand
While she colors her big brother her mother and dad
Ain't no tellin what really goes on in her little head
Wish I could be the daddy that neither one of us had
But I keep runnin from somethin I never wanted so bad!
Sometimes I get upset, cause I ain't blew up yet
It's like I grew up, but I ain't grow me two nuts yet
Don't gotta rep my step, don't got enough pep
The pressure's too much man, I'm just tryin to do what's best
And I try, sit alone and I cry
Yo I won't tell no lie, not a moment goes by
That I don't pray to the sky, please I'm beggin you God
Please don't let me be bitchin holdin no regular job
Yo I hope you can hear me homey wherever you are
Yo I'm tellin you dawg I'm bailin this trailer tomorrow
Tell my mother I love her, kiss baby sister goodbye
Say whenever you need me baby, I'm never too far
But yo I gotta get out there, the only way I know
And I'ma be back for you, the second that I blow
On everything I own, I'll make it on my own
Off to work I go, back to this 8 Mile Road

[ Chorus ]

You gotta live it to feel it, you didn't you wouldn't get it
Or see what the big deal is, why it wasn't as ill as
To be walkin this borderline of Detroit city limits
It's different, it's a certain significance, a certificate
of authenticity, you'd never even see
But it's everything to me, it's my credibility
You never seen heard smelled or met a real MC
who's incredible or on the same pedestal as me
But yet I'm still unsigned, havin a rough time
Sit on the porch with all my friends and kick dumb rhymes
Go to work and serve MC's in the lunchline
But when it comes crunch time, where do my punchlines go
Who must I show, to bust my flow
Where must I go, who must I know
Or am I just another crab in the bucket
Cause I ain't havin no luck with this little Rabbit so fuck it
Maybe I need a new outlet, I'm startin to doubt shit
I'm feelin a little skeptical who I hang out with
I look like a bum, yo my clothes ain't about shit
at the Salvation Army tryin to salvage an outfit
And it's cold, tryin to travel this road
Plus I feel like I'm only stuck in this battlin mode
My defenses are so up, but one thing I don't want
is pity from no one, the city is no fun
There is no sun, and it's so dark
Sometimes I feel like I'm just bein pulled apart
from each one of my limbs, by each one of my friends
It's enough to make me just wanna jump out of my skin
Sometimes I feel like a robot, sometimes I just know not
what I'm doin I just blow, my head is a stove top
I just explode, the kettle gets so hot
Sometimes my mouth just overloads the gas that I don't got
But I've learned, it's time for me to U-turn
Yo it only takes one time for me to get burned
Ain't no fallin no next time I meet a new girl
I can no longer play stupid or be immature
I got every ingredient, all I need is the courage
Like I already got the beat, all I need is the words
Got the urge, suddenly it's a surge
Suddenly a new burst of energy has occured
Time to show these free world leaders A three and a third
I am no longer scared now, I'm free as a bird
Then I turn and cross over the median curb
Hit the 'burbs and all you see is a blur from 8 Mile Road

[Chorus]

Top Priority?

Maybe. I just now got an email with the subject line “highest priority today above all else” Seriously. Where did this one come from? God? Well, I think that settles it, that’s what I’ll start working on now until I get another email that escalates the priority level. And it will happen; perhaps before I even finish this blog-entry.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever written on this subject, but find it fascinating. Here, the word “top priority” is synonymous with “task.” If you get a top priority it just means do this. It is the base-level; that’s where we start. It is management’s way of emphasizing the importance of every little mundane task, project, presentation. But how do we prioritize? By saying this is your Top, Top, or Top, Top, Top Priority, of course. I have received those emails. Another variation would be --- “drop everything you are doing, we have a new priority.” I love that. And how do I respond? I don’t. I just smile and do. My boss once, giving me and my co-workers a prep-talk told us we were “robots.” No joke. This is ironic because I once referred to her as a robot in an email. This was in response to one of the times my workload got to a laughably out-of-control level and one of my co-workers tried to speak up for me and say, “but wait.. Craig is working on X, Y, and Z.” She responded “That’s fine, but this still needs to be done.” No emotion, no compassion, no giving a fuck. I thought I’d be crafty and write said email in French because our emails are read, but unfortunately what I wrote amounted to “appelé mon patron "un robot". Yeah… Let’s not be delusional --- I’m not that smart.

Anyway, I supposed I should read her email now. Quick skim – she used the word “crucial” twice, and also said I should take this “very seriously.” I suppose I should start now.

Tossing My Name into the Hat

Because I'm so over Obama and McCain. Grassroots, baby!

There's an effort to elect an unknown random person as President... and it's someone we know! Watch this online video about the surprising new nominee:

http://www.tsgnet.com/pres.php?id=46832&altf=D41Dsbjh&altl=Kbdltpo

Palin Debate Strategy - Brilliant

I watched, I cringed, my heart went out to Palin. The RNC is so mean for putting her in this position. She is clearly not ready to be a "heartbeat" from the Presidency, but is doing the best she can. This decision-tree is deadly accurate.