Believe it or not, but there was once a time newspapers were popular,
this was of course a while ago somewhere in the late 90's or as my wife
likes to refer to it as "in the year King Uzziah died"(yes i've used
that joke before...deal with it) . Although some social analysis will
tell you otherwise, the eventual death of the newspaper (and journalism
for that matter) has little to do with media houses being unable to keep
up with technology, although we must commend ZNS for always keeping
their technology no further than 26years behind industry standard. The
issue is perceived journalistic integrity and ethics or the lack there
of. Well dear Spectrum reader, (all one of you), this paper is as
ethical as it gets. We can not be bought by anyone, our virtue is not
for sale, notwithstanding that last term we may have leased it for a
bit, but no more. Just because we have an ad from Lugio Pizzaria and
Tennis Court, does not mean that we will not report the hard hitting
news, particularly when its a public concern and directly effects the
College community. This is why our January issue our lead story was
"Lugio Pizza Delivers on Deliciousness: Competition driven mad with
envy".
Proof enough i think, but a strong sense of ethics i fear may only
resolve half the problem, what about integrity? The other issue is the
fact that the newspaper industry is built on the premise of speculative
fiction, what is speculative fiction?
Well it is easiest if i give you an example. It is assumed that in
the next two weeks someone will be killed, they will probably die in a
non affluent neighborhood, etc, etc. so based on these common facts,
instead of writing a brand new story every time someone dies we have a
standard template that can simply be filled out with the relevant
information.
eg.
Circle where applicable
On (insert date) a (young, old) man was (shot, shot by police, found
in the bush) in the (Pinewood Gardens, Bain Town, Freeport) area
multiple times until he died. The man, (Kevin, Nardo, Something Ethnic)
was a (black, brown, mauve) complexion and (police suspect, onlookers
suggest) that the death is (drug, domestic, bunberrist) related . The
authorities are following several leads…
And that works.
You know it does, you've seen that exact story a thousand times. It
only become problematic when applied to other areas of the news. Take
for example a news story i wrote and reprinted every other month for the
past 4 years.
Bay Street closed today due to raging, rapist mermaids. The capital's
main through fair today fell victim to a suspicious group of mermaids.
Onlookers watched in horror as buildings on the water's edge were gutted
by merciless mermaids, destroying everything in their path. The police
force stood helpless as they tried to contain the mermaids and protect
the historic buildings of Old Nassau, but were impotent as no water was
available to restrain the merfolk.
Now for the 20 something times i've printed that, no one ever noticed
it sitting there on page 2 as a filler, but as a journalist i'm aware
of the concept of speculative fiction. its only a matter of time before
such an event happens, and when it does, the story is already ready, and
what do you know, Bay Street caught on fire and all i had to do was
switch out mermaids for fire and an automatic front page story, but
people don't like speculative fiction.
They hate it when you have two versions of the same paper written the
night before an election so that you can be the first one to drop the
scoop, they hate it when accuse the wrong person of rape on the front
page and then give a half a paragraph apology in a box under "1/2 off
all Benjamin Moore non latex paint", and they really hate it when you
report that a member of their family has died because you're a vulture
too consumed on moving units to ever check your facts or practice
investigative journalism. I'll admit that as student writer my research
often doesn't pass 3 wikipedia pages, but recently it seems that i'm
doing 3 times as much foot work as some folks.
A blog that oddly has very little to do with robots...
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Saturday, October 27, 2012
"How To..." Chapter 1
How To Over Think a First Encounter and Ruin Your Chance With the Girl of Your Dreams:
The Concise Guide to Dying Alone and Miserable, For Attractive Over-Achieving Males
The writer, a 42 year native of Norman's Cay has battle with his obscene attractiveness for the past 30 years, and gives lectures throughout the leeward islands of the archipelago on overcoming the debilitating effects of coarse and debauched handsomeness.
Step One: Come On Too Strong,
According to your mother, "you're a handsome boy and any girl would be lucky to have you" but even while your mum's pinch's imprint is still clear on your cheek, you feel that today you need something extra. You see today is the day. This is first time that you are meeting the girl of your dreams, and although you've never had a conversation with her , you know she is the girl of your dreams because you've check out her profile on Facebook (1). This was no easy feat seeing as she blocked and reported you twice for inappropriate comments. Other persons may stop after getting a cease and desist order but you suffer from a severe case of over determination, and that's what women like. Women like a man who is determined.
NO ONE LIKES A QUITTER! (2)
There is always some mutual friend whose account that you can hack and find out what class she has on Monday. Now the ball is in your court, but its not enough to simply steal a couple lines from a Will Smith movie while knocking all of the French textbooks out of her hand, hoping she digs your Ray Bands and super retro Hi-Top fade, no this girl is special, any liberal art major can pull off that look, you need to step it up to a whole other level. You've seen the movies and after school specials, what is it that women can't resist? Spectacles; women love spectacles, like a--like a child with astigmatism. When I was in school it was as simple as making a mix-tape of R Kelly songs(3) but that was of course a while ago, some where in the late 1990's, or as my younger, attractive wife like to refer to it as in the year King Uzziah died, which incidentally was also a hit song by Kelly during that time.
I know that today it is not as simple as it use to be to draw attention to yourself, it expected that you make an idiot of yourself, its called brand recognition. How are you going to get her attention? You need to do some more research, find out what she likes, no detail is too mundane to ignore, ask around maybe he has a room mate or sister, find out things like What's her favorite brand of oatmeal? What is her favorite shade of green; teal or jade? What are her opinions on planned parenting? at first these seem like some pretty deep questions to ask about someone that you talking to for the first time (ever in life), but if you come to the table with this information she can't help but notice that you are serious about this relationship.
Now it isn't always possible to get this information as some family members can't be bought (4), at times like this you have to wing it. You've intercepted her on the way from the library to her french class which she is late for her mid-term test. You've quickly introduced yourself, telling her your name and she introduces herself as something that sounds oddly like an invented pseudonym, no matter, before she goes another foot you make your move. knock all the books out of her hand and get on one knee. from your back pocket pull out the the imitation cubic zirconium ring and ask her to marry you. Now honestly she probably won't say yes, and in all truth, if she says yes you should run (5) but she will never forget you.
1 you've also checked your dream book, and your lucky numbers today are 11001
2 (unless i'm on the other team, then i do like a quitter. Shoot once in a very competitive game of Yatzee after a girl gave up i bought her dinner and even let her get some heavy petting in, what was her name? I don't kiss and tell-- your mother)
3 imagine Trèy Songz with facial hair and a Basketball Jersey over his church shirt. While that seems odd, you must appreciate the genius of the man that combined two archetypes of success in the ghetto, pastors and basketball players, this was perhaps most recognized in his double disc album The Lord Saved Me (Disc 1) To Style On Your Girl (Disc 2).
4 like Olive's sister, you'd think that $50.00 would be enough money to procure me a small article of clothing, but suddenly Ruby has a moral compass, but she won't give me back my money or at least an invoice so that i can keep a balance cheque book
5. A crazy guy is something girls can get over, at worst you're Tom Cruise at best your Johnny Depp, either way a guy wins. A crazy girl on the other hand is like…well its just creepy.
The Concise Guide to Dying Alone and Miserable, For Attractive Over-Achieving Males
The writer, a 42 year native of Norman's Cay has battle with his obscene attractiveness for the past 30 years, and gives lectures throughout the leeward islands of the archipelago on overcoming the debilitating effects of coarse and debauched handsomeness.
Step One: Come On Too Strong,
According to your mother, "you're a handsome boy and any girl would be lucky to have you" but even while your mum's pinch's imprint is still clear on your cheek, you feel that today you need something extra. You see today is the day. This is first time that you are meeting the girl of your dreams, and although you've never had a conversation with her , you know she is the girl of your dreams because you've check out her profile on Facebook (1). This was no easy feat seeing as she blocked and reported you twice for inappropriate comments. Other persons may stop after getting a cease and desist order but you suffer from a severe case of over determination, and that's what women like. Women like a man who is determined.
NO ONE LIKES A QUITTER! (2)
There is always some mutual friend whose account that you can hack and find out what class she has on Monday. Now the ball is in your court, but its not enough to simply steal a couple lines from a Will Smith movie while knocking all of the French textbooks out of her hand, hoping she digs your Ray Bands and super retro Hi-Top fade, no this girl is special, any liberal art major can pull off that look, you need to step it up to a whole other level. You've seen the movies and after school specials, what is it that women can't resist? Spectacles; women love spectacles, like a--like a child with astigmatism. When I was in school it was as simple as making a mix-tape of R Kelly songs(3) but that was of course a while ago, some where in the late 1990's, or as my younger, attractive wife like to refer to it as in the year King Uzziah died, which incidentally was also a hit song by Kelly during that time.
I know that today it is not as simple as it use to be to draw attention to yourself, it expected that you make an idiot of yourself, its called brand recognition. How are you going to get her attention? You need to do some more research, find out what she likes, no detail is too mundane to ignore, ask around maybe he has a room mate or sister, find out things like What's her favorite brand of oatmeal? What is her favorite shade of green; teal or jade? What are her opinions on planned parenting? at first these seem like some pretty deep questions to ask about someone that you talking to for the first time (ever in life), but if you come to the table with this information she can't help but notice that you are serious about this relationship.
Now it isn't always possible to get this information as some family members can't be bought (4), at times like this you have to wing it. You've intercepted her on the way from the library to her french class which she is late for her mid-term test. You've quickly introduced yourself, telling her your name and she introduces herself as something that sounds oddly like an invented pseudonym, no matter, before she goes another foot you make your move. knock all the books out of her hand and get on one knee. from your back pocket pull out the the imitation cubic zirconium ring and ask her to marry you. Now honestly she probably won't say yes, and in all truth, if she says yes you should run (5) but she will never forget you.
1 you've also checked your dream book, and your lucky numbers today are 11001
2 (unless i'm on the other team, then i do like a quitter. Shoot once in a very competitive game of Yatzee after a girl gave up i bought her dinner and even let her get some heavy petting in, what was her name? I don't kiss and tell-- your mother)
3 imagine Trèy Songz with facial hair and a Basketball Jersey over his church shirt. While that seems odd, you must appreciate the genius of the man that combined two archetypes of success in the ghetto, pastors and basketball players, this was perhaps most recognized in his double disc album The Lord Saved Me (Disc 1) To Style On Your Girl (Disc 2).
4 like Olive's sister, you'd think that $50.00 would be enough money to procure me a small article of clothing, but suddenly Ruby has a moral compass, but she won't give me back my money or at least an invoice so that i can keep a balance cheque book
5. A crazy guy is something girls can get over, at worst you're Tom Cruise at best your Johnny Depp, either way a guy wins. A crazy girl on the other hand is like…well its just creepy.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
The Secret Life of Cats
One of the last interviews that Schin Nguyen gave before he was
sent to prison as a political prisoner by the oppressive German
Polynesian Regime, conducted by Sarah Betters, who was long considered
to be the favorite of Nguyen's three wives, but recent documents have surfaced questioning the validity of their marriage.
Schin Nguyen: Lol I think I've created this constant mental image of you sleeping like a cat curled up on the bed smiling (at first I thought it absurd to think people smile when they sleep but...you do) I realized it flawed because cats are an illiterate lot, I don't think I ever met a cat fond of a book, ever! Also while you are really, really attractive and usually a girl's evilness directly co-relates to their attractiveness, you aren't evil at all...not like cats!
Sarah Betters: (Lol) ...and how often do you speak with cats, that you can make such searing accusations?
Schin Nguyen: All the time, they are a talkative race but quite self involved. They don't want to talk about anything except how nimble and clean they are...oh and tuna, they love to talk about how they invented tuna, when in truth they only "commissioned" tuna; it was the Japanese who invented tuna.
Sarah Betters: ...aren't cats from Egypt?
Schin Nguyen: Yes--yes cats are from Egypt...but "tuna" is from Japan. The cats, after enslaving the Northern end of the African continent, marched over to Asia and did the same...that's why the Asian people look like that, (points to eyes) they're giving their former cat over lords a wicked glare
Sarah Betters: I want to laugh but it seems racist...
Schin Nguyen: It is but that's okay because the cat race doesn't deserve the mercy of humanity
Sarah Betters: (pauses and gives Schin Nguyen a perplexed stare) What exactly did cats do to you?
Schin Nguyen: (takes a deep breathe then looks deeply into Sarah's eyes) A cat killed my brother. When I was about 7 years old my father owned a small family styled diner that specialized in Kosher Vietnamese/Jamaican dishes when Tabby 12...I don't know if you're old enough to remember him?
Sarah Betters: Yes the super hero cat with his own line of designer ascots...I just look young and cute, were the same age! (Glares)
Schin Nguyen: (not repentant) ...well this "super hero" comes to our resturant and my older brother was his waiter and he hands the cat a menu the cat angrily throws the menu at him and screams "I need a picture menu! Cats can't read". The angry cat storms out.
Sarah Betters: So....how does that?
Schin Nguyen: A year later my brother died in his sleep from congenital heart failure....
Sarah Betters: I thought you were an only child?
Schin Nguyen: (pauses) Yes...well technically...you know what! You don't see me holding your perfect cheek bones and arresting smile against you!
Sarah Betters: (silence)
Schin Nguyen: Marry me?
Sarah Betters: (gets up with her bag) This interview is over sir!
Schin Nguyen: Lol I think I've created this constant mental image of you sleeping like a cat curled up on the bed smiling (at first I thought it absurd to think people smile when they sleep but...you do) I realized it flawed because cats are an illiterate lot, I don't think I ever met a cat fond of a book, ever! Also while you are really, really attractive and usually a girl's evilness directly co-relates to their attractiveness, you aren't evil at all...not like cats!
Sarah Betters: (Lol) ...and how often do you speak with cats, that you can make such searing accusations?
Schin Nguyen: All the time, they are a talkative race but quite self involved. They don't want to talk about anything except how nimble and clean they are...oh and tuna, they love to talk about how they invented tuna, when in truth they only "commissioned" tuna; it was the Japanese who invented tuna.
Sarah Betters: ...aren't cats from Egypt?
Schin Nguyen: Yes--yes cats are from Egypt...but "tuna" is from Japan. The cats, after enslaving the Northern end of the African continent, marched over to Asia and did the same...that's why the Asian people look like that, (points to eyes) they're giving their former cat over lords a wicked glare
Sarah Betters: I want to laugh but it seems racist...
Schin Nguyen: It is but that's okay because the cat race doesn't deserve the mercy of humanity
Sarah Betters: (pauses and gives Schin Nguyen a perplexed stare) What exactly did cats do to you?
Schin Nguyen: (takes a deep breathe then looks deeply into Sarah's eyes) A cat killed my brother. When I was about 7 years old my father owned a small family styled diner that specialized in Kosher Vietnamese/Jamaican dishes when Tabby 12...I don't know if you're old enough to remember him?
Sarah Betters: Yes the super hero cat with his own line of designer ascots...I just look young and cute, were the same age! (Glares)
Schin Nguyen: (not repentant) ...well this "super hero" comes to our resturant and my older brother was his waiter and he hands the cat a menu the cat angrily throws the menu at him and screams "I need a picture menu! Cats can't read". The angry cat storms out.
Sarah Betters: So....how does that?
Schin Nguyen: A year later my brother died in his sleep from congenital heart failure....
Sarah Betters: I thought you were an only child?
Schin Nguyen: (pauses) Yes...well technically...you know what! You don't see me holding your perfect cheek bones and arresting smile against you!
Sarah Betters: (silence)
Schin Nguyen: Marry me?
Sarah Betters: (gets up with her bag) This interview is over sir!
Friday, July 13, 2012
ATTN: Desk of Olive Greene
I realize that i don't tell you this often, but i don't know what i
would do without you, particularly the past two weeks after the death of
my pet tiger shark. But beyond your creamy, soft shoulder it has
recently come to my attention that i have become a slightly better
person because of you. I'll give you an example.
The other morning my governess asked me where i was going because i was wearing pants. Apparently this is un-characteristic of me at the early hour of 10:45am, usually at that time i'm just stumbling into the house, but still not wearing pants. (I admit that it was crude of a caretaker to suggest such a thing, but she isn't a Bahamian, she's from Long Island, and they aren't a genteel race and rather unease to the proper behavior that is required of help.)
It happen that you were passing by that morning to pick up my manuscript, which was the reason that i was clothed, this irritated my governess to no end, her exact words were, "to quote a famous man, nigga please! " You must know right now, i've never said that before, there is almost no circumstance under which i could imagine me saying please, but that is the very thing, when you came to the door i said "…please, come in."
Prior to meeting you i was satisfied with my position as an over educated lumpen proletariat, extolling the profits of being--well a bum, now i find myself having ambitions and goals and not only am i setting exceptional aspirations but achieving them. To make matters worse the other day i found myself updating my resume and sending it out to prospective employees. I'm certain that you are proud of all this but i must now ask you to cease being a positive impact on my life as it is terribly laborious and interferes with my 12 hours of sleep, i started this memo by telling you that i don't know what i would do without you, well before i met you i knew what i would be doing, watching Sponge Bob reruns and eating Honey Nut Cheerios in my Superman drawers.
So while i appreciate all of your contributions that you've--nope thats a lie please stop, its hard living up to my potential.
Schin (Steve) Nguyen
The other morning my governess asked me where i was going because i was wearing pants. Apparently this is un-characteristic of me at the early hour of 10:45am, usually at that time i'm just stumbling into the house, but still not wearing pants. (I admit that it was crude of a caretaker to suggest such a thing, but she isn't a Bahamian, she's from Long Island, and they aren't a genteel race and rather unease to the proper behavior that is required of help.)
It happen that you were passing by that morning to pick up my manuscript, which was the reason that i was clothed, this irritated my governess to no end, her exact words were, "to quote a famous man, nigga please! " You must know right now, i've never said that before, there is almost no circumstance under which i could imagine me saying please, but that is the very thing, when you came to the door i said "…please, come in."
Prior to meeting you i was satisfied with my position as an over educated lumpen proletariat, extolling the profits of being--well a bum, now i find myself having ambitions and goals and not only am i setting exceptional aspirations but achieving them. To make matters worse the other day i found myself updating my resume and sending it out to prospective employees. I'm certain that you are proud of all this but i must now ask you to cease being a positive impact on my life as it is terribly laborious and interferes with my 12 hours of sleep, i started this memo by telling you that i don't know what i would do without you, well before i met you i knew what i would be doing, watching Sponge Bob reruns and eating Honey Nut Cheerios in my Superman drawers.
So while i appreciate all of your contributions that you've--nope thats a lie please stop, its hard living up to my potential.
Schin (Steve) Nguyen
Friday, June 29, 2012
3/8ths if you're wondering...where have i been
Good guys are losers,
Trust me.
I've never won a game of monopoly or scrabble, (but then that says more about my lack of 'stickability' and decaying moral fiber I suppose than fallacious proof that I'm a good guy...or a loser.)
You may question how can I be either of those things when I have fans. well how much are these fans, really fans?
Only half of them know what I look like, and only half of that number know my real name and only half of that minuscule number aren't bots trying to sell me erectile dysfunction medicine. It is only depressing when you realize that the original number of fans, computer viruses included was 3, (I'm not good at math, but I've been told that leaves me with more decimals than fans.)
Now even if I could somehow parle that 0.375 of a fan into a groupie, I'd still lose because when i make jokes about being the one eyed, four tentacled grandson of Sidney Poitier and a chicken the jokes are only funny as long as I am really not a one eyed, four tentacled grandson of Sidney Poitier and a chicken.
(By now you begin to realize it's not so much self deprecating humor as much as "why does a half chicken dude have tentacles" but I progress...only winners can digress)
Good guys are losers, you've watched professional American sports, only rapist and dog killers get fat head posters*. This leaves me with some hope, because Bahamian women have particularly horrible taste in men, for example, they date Bahamian men, so...I'm still kinda, almost in the running, but that doesn't change my original point...which if I have not explicitly stated...
you should date me,
like for real
*this for some odd reason reminds me of the entrenched racism in the American version of the Power Rangers, the blatantness of Saban amazes me. The leader, is the Red Ranger, a red-blooded all-American boy, the blonde girly-girl is the Pink Ranger. The Yellow Ranger is Asian and the Black Ranger was...black. Perhaps the most disturbing part is that the Green Ranger was an Irish Protestant dissenter. The reinforcement of stereotypes in American television is disturbing.
Trust me.
I've never won a game of monopoly or scrabble, (but then that says more about my lack of 'stickability' and decaying moral fiber I suppose than fallacious proof that I'm a good guy...or a loser.)
You may question how can I be either of those things when I have fans. well how much are these fans, really fans?
Only half of them know what I look like, and only half of that number know my real name and only half of that minuscule number aren't bots trying to sell me erectile dysfunction medicine. It is only depressing when you realize that the original number of fans, computer viruses included was 3, (I'm not good at math, but I've been told that leaves me with more decimals than fans.)
Now even if I could somehow parle that 0.375 of a fan into a groupie, I'd still lose because when i make jokes about being the one eyed, four tentacled grandson of Sidney Poitier and a chicken the jokes are only funny as long as I am really not a one eyed, four tentacled grandson of Sidney Poitier and a chicken.
(By now you begin to realize it's not so much self deprecating humor as much as "why does a half chicken dude have tentacles" but I progress...only winners can digress)
Good guys are losers, you've watched professional American sports, only rapist and dog killers get fat head posters*. This leaves me with some hope, because Bahamian women have particularly horrible taste in men, for example, they date Bahamian men, so...I'm still kinda, almost in the running, but that doesn't change my original point...which if I have not explicitly stated...
you should date me,
like for real
*this for some odd reason reminds me of the entrenched racism in the American version of the Power Rangers, the blatantness of Saban amazes me. The leader, is the Red Ranger, a red-blooded all-American boy, the blonde girly-girl is the Pink Ranger. The Yellow Ranger is Asian and the Black Ranger was...black. Perhaps the most disturbing part is that the Green Ranger was an Irish Protestant dissenter. The reinforcement of stereotypes in American television is disturbing.
Friday, January 28, 2011
I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy, (i got something special planned for that bastard)
Alright, I have a video shoot in 2 hours and I did not prep for this week's post, so this is a true test as to how good I am at writing this ridiculous, although I blame my editors for rejecting my first two drafts, (the first being How Mangoes Give You AIDS and The Burden of Child Bearing for Men; a Manual To Avoiding the First 18 years of Your Child's Life, apparently they are inconsiderate and historically inaccurate, but that does not stop the Tribune from printing papers everyday). This is going to result in me rambling on for a page or two about no particular focus or aim...it is the fault of my editor Olive Greene (I don't know what she is going to put there, but whatever it is, it probably isn't her name...or gender...or plane of existence)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So when I was a teenager, ( or as my younger and completely out of my league female friend, who I keep hitting on but is insisting that "we can just be friends" lie that the hegemonic structure of Hollywood is constantly peddling through the quite beautiful Jennifer Aniston, refers to it), in the year King Uzziah died, I lost a close personal friend by the name of Rhemmy Rhemington. For those of you who maybe to young to remember the '90's, he was a very popular House DJ.
His death was tragic as he died in a freak chocolate smelting accident, (we had shirts printed up and everything, with catchy slogans like "Give Me a Break" and "Gone but Not Delicious"). Personally i blame the girl that he was dating at the time. He was trying to impress her for Valentines Day, but with little success as after he encased his body within a shell of chocolate, he suffocated and was not found for three weeks because the girl was lactose intolerant and instead of telling him, simply put the 220 lb box of chocolate in the back of her fridge behind the jar of Mayo and olives.
For some reason I always connect his death to that of The Beatles. No one is quite sure about the exact number of members of the band, but we do know there were at least four; Paul McCartney, John Lennon, Ringo Starr and...Scratchy, the Bass Player, who also died in a chocolate smelting incident.
But back to this young lady that he died for, (did I mention that she was from New Providence, which if you haven't been paying attention is an epic fail, the only good thing that has ever come out of Nassau is the mail boat heading back to Andros), she was chicken head. I don't mean that as a euphemism for something filthy that I learnt while watching CSI, she literally had a chicken head, due to some genetic mutation caused by her mother drinking Nassau tap water while pregnant with her, she was born with the head of a hen. So you can understand how it is impossible to even think that the relationship would have worked out, where could he take her to dinner?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So when I was a teenager, ( or as my younger and completely out of my league female friend, who I keep hitting on but is insisting that "we can just be friends" lie that the hegemonic structure of Hollywood is constantly peddling through the quite beautiful Jennifer Aniston, refers to it), in the year King Uzziah died, I lost a close personal friend by the name of Rhemmy Rhemington. For those of you who maybe to young to remember the '90's, he was a very popular House DJ.
His death was tragic as he died in a freak chocolate smelting accident, (we had shirts printed up and everything, with catchy slogans like "Give Me a Break" and "Gone but Not Delicious"). Personally i blame the girl that he was dating at the time. He was trying to impress her for Valentines Day, but with little success as after he encased his body within a shell of chocolate, he suffocated and was not found for three weeks because the girl was lactose intolerant and instead of telling him, simply put the 220 lb box of chocolate in the back of her fridge behind the jar of Mayo and olives.
For some reason I always connect his death to that of The Beatles. No one is quite sure about the exact number of members of the band, but we do know there were at least four; Paul McCartney, John Lennon, Ringo Starr and...Scratchy, the Bass Player, who also died in a chocolate smelting incident.
But back to this young lady that he died for, (did I mention that she was from New Providence, which if you haven't been paying attention is an epic fail, the only good thing that has ever come out of Nassau is the mail boat heading back to Andros), she was chicken head. I don't mean that as a euphemism for something filthy that I learnt while watching CSI, she literally had a chicken head, due to some genetic mutation caused by her mother drinking Nassau tap water while pregnant with her, she was born with the head of a hen. So you can understand how it is impossible to even think that the relationship would have worked out, where could he take her to dinner?
Bamboo Shack is completely out of the question, and so where does that leave them, with no viable place to stand in the relationship.
I am wearing shoes.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
The Natural Order of Things
As it pertains to the role of gender and the proper social positions that women and men have in society, it is taken that the natural order of things is to have women the placid genteel creature; a thing of beauty it has then always been a vulgar thing to even imagine a woman that would disturb her station in life to become something beyond a portrait to be admired.
A lady does not court a gentleman, a lady is courted by gentlemen. With that said it is preposterous for the question to be asked and more so to be answered if men want women to pursue them. As we are dealing with things that pertain to nature let us use the metaphor of the tiger and the deer.
The tiger chases the deer, this is the natural order. What would the tiger think if one day in a forest he meet an overly aggressive onyx waiting for him leaning against a tree, lotioning herself with A1Steak sauce and forcing open the tiger's jowls and rubbing her meaty flanks across his incisors sensually?
Wouldn't the tiger begin to question the moral integrity of the deer? Maybe the deer isn't as innocent as he thought and although he hadn't expected to be the first feline to nibble on her hind quarters, the tiger begins to think that the deer is just a little comfortable with carnivores.
Does the tiger really want to get involved with the deer when it is quite possible that in six years he is wondering why their half tiger/half deer child has a mane and she tries to convince him that her grandfather, who by the way was an elk, had a mane and that it skipped a couple generations?
(I'm just saying).
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