NaySchola

The Case of the Missing Sample

2012-01-20T12:34:00.000-08:00

Recently, I've become a bit of a nerd for Hip-Hop samples. This is one of those hobbies like studying the differences in insect wings that you don't expect to share with a lot of people. I blame my getting into it on two things: First of all, I got a record player a few years ago. Now that I have the ability to play vinyl at my leisure (pronounced: LEH-zure), I find myself spending inordinate amounts of time and money in places like Amoeba Music, and the like. The second thing that has drawn me into this very specific community within the kingdom of musical nerd-dom is Ivan Rott's Lordship over the realm of the Hip-Hop sample. At his site, he produces a web-renowned, exhaustive list of samples used in popular (and less well-known) rippity-rap songs.

To make a long story short, despite the fact that we may be a little bit beyond that option, I have been searching far and wide for the sample used in one of my favorite songs of 2011. The song is Moonstruck by Action Bronson, which I featured in the previous post as part of my top songs of last year.

At some point, after getting the album, I found a video that featured all of the samples used on the album, thus allowing me to search out the vinyl copies of those songs. However, the sample compilation did not do what it advertised, as my favorite song from the album was not represented among the samples. Here began my search.

Well today, after much searching, I found it. In truth, now that I've found it, I feel a bit sheepish. I should have been able to spot it a little more easily because I know the source. On top of that, I used to work for a theatre company and the sample is from a live-stage show. Subconsciously, I suppose it is possible that my admiration for the song may have been originally derived through my recognition of the tune and possibly the lyrics. Ok, enough psycho-babble. Carry on with your day. Or, if you would like, celebrate with me by watching the videos. Without further ado, I present the sample source of Action Bronson's Moonstruck. The song is "By Now the Room Was Moving" from the Andrew Lippa musical The Wild Party.

And the sample is taken from the portion beginning at 1:20.

A Grand, Romantic Gesture

2011-12-20T23:47:00.001-08:00

So often, I feel like I treat the Scholites/Scholinos/Scholiographers/Scholars the way that Buster treated Lucille 2 in Arrested Development. The neglect gets so bad at times that people are sitting at home thinking that I must be planning some grand, romantic gesture to sweep them off of their feet. Well, I guess this time you were right.

I realize that at times when creating page titles, I tend to overestimate myself. Phrases like "Interesting Read of the Day" almost seem to indicate that, when written, those words revealed a genuine belief in my ability to maintain such a schedule. For anyone who feels let down by my failures of frequency in updating the music department, here is a year's worth of Bebop & Rocksteady that is guaranteed to move your Foot Clan.

Let's say for instance, you just completely missed out on Hip-Hop for the last 12 months. This little time capsule will ensure that no one makes fun of the musical selection at your New Year's Eve party. (Now all you have to worry about is onion dip and party hats.)

Volume 1.:

1. Work Out - J. Cole
2. 5 o'clock - T. Pain
3. Gotta Have It - Jay-Z & Kanye West
4. Fastlane - Eminem & Royce da 5'9
5. Headlines - Drake
6. 600 Benz - Wale & Rick Ross
7. Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay - Big Sean
8. N*ggas in Paris - Jay-Z & Kanye West
9. Tupac Back - Meek Mill & Rick Ross
10. Above the Law - Eminem & Royce da 5'9
11. Oh My - DJ Drama (ft. like 15 ppl)
12. It's Good - Lil Wayne
13. Otis - Jay-Z & Kanye West
14. She Will - Lil Wayne

Volume 2.::
1. Moonstruck - Action Bronson
2. Sweet - Common
3. Stomp - The Roots
4. OJ - Young Jeezy
5. Double Burger with Cheese - Lupe Fiasco
6. WWJD? He'd prolly LOL like WTF!!! - Lupe Fiasco
7. Rise and Shine - J. Cole
8. Sleep - The Roots
9. Cocoa Butter - Action Bronson
10. In the Morning - J. Cole
11. I Do - Young Jeezy
12. Ghetto Dreams - Common
13. Get Away - Yelawolf
14. Barry Horowitz - Action Bronson
15. Hard White (up in the club)- Yelawolf

Volume 3.:
1. Yonkers - Tyler, the Creator
2. Black Ops - Random Axe
3. Thor's Hammer - Vast Aire
4. Molasses - Raekwon
5. Everybody, Nobody, Somebody - Random Axe
6. Scottie Pippens - Curren$y
7. Palookas - Talib Kweli
8. Butter Knives - Raekwon
9. Freaks and Geeks - Childish Gambino
10. The Hex - Random Axe
11. Amen - Pusha T
12. I'm Flexin' - T.I.

*I realized last night that I forgot to include Nasty by Nas. Which is a one of my favoritest songs ever, not just of 2011.

Tales from the Train #3

2011-11-30T23:58:00.000-08:00

Maybe I'm Old School

Riding the train to East LA is one of the most rewarding and challenging experiences of my life. It entertains the hell out of me while making simultaneously cozy up to death and feel more alive than ever before. Riding the train through to East LA has become an essential part of living. Being one of the regulars on the Gold Line Eastside extension has given me all kinds of perspective on life.

The career community college students heading to East Los Angeles College and the drug dealers whose tell-tale signs are much more obvious than they think them to be: Those are the real heroes of the line. The work commuters and the mothers who get on with their 4 kids and belly full of their 5^th on the way to pick up a government check of one kind of another: we just the commoners. Maybe they are going to the free clinic near Slauson for a check-up. All I know is that I routinely give up my seat when they get on the train. And that mild inconvenience is an homage to the old school that raised. I guess nobody has to do that, but at the same time, nobody wants to be the guy who lets a woman with 5 kids stand up on the bus while trying to breastfeed and reprimand a bunch of Bay-Bay’s (or Pepe’s) kids that pay her no nevermind. But I’m coming to find out that those basic acts of decency are a throwback to another time.

I didn’t realize that this particular line was a culture all its own until started trying to figure out why almost everyone was performing the sign of the cross at Mariachi Plaza every day. I created several theories on why this happened at first and all of them were far more fantastical than the reality that we were passing Catholic churches and all true believers, along with hating gays and voting against abortion, must cross themselves whenever they pass a church. You learn something new every day; or you stew over the same thing for two weeks trying to figure it out until you finally ask someone. In that case, what you could have learned in one day, you learn over the course of a much longer period of time.

It’s the nosiness that gets to me at the end of the day, though. Once, I saw a guy introduce himself to a girl in the most intrusive method possible. He said, “I hope I’m not being too forward but do you have a boyfriend?”. She said yes. I thought his start was nice since he offered her a way to deny the advance and let him know if it was OK to proceed. This is one of the first signs of a gentleman. Apparently non-gents know this move as well. He kept going. ”Oh, that’s too bad” he said. “I wanted to tell you I liked your hair. But if you have a man, I don’t wanna step on any toes”. Actually he said he didn’t want to step on “no toes”. I thought to myself: that was a slick way to say exactly what you wanted to say while actually acting like you didn’t want to say it. Obviously he’s going to stop at this point. He’s clearly been beaten to the punch by someone who has scooped this girl up already. Let it go. Nope: no such luck. “What phone plan do you have?” Seriously; THAT was his question! He wanted to know what plan she had. I assume he means what service provider but, no. She actually one-upped him and told him how much she pays and how many minutes she gets each month - Classy conversation in my opinion. He then explained that he was on his was on his way to get a new cell plan because AT&T wasn’t working for him. I just don’t know if that is any of your business. As a matter of fact, it is the exclusivity of that information to my jurisdiction that qualifies it for the possessive pronoun “my”; as in “my phone plan” and “my business”. That would have been my answer. I don’t know. Maybe I’m old school.

Today, even as I sit here writing these words upon that very same train, some guy is sitting next to me staring at my computer screen like it is his and there is a huge smudge on it. I hope he can see the words and understands English…and can take something stronger than a hint. These words are meant to cause you the appropriate amount of embarrassment necessary for you to take your eyes somewhere else. Yeah dude. You! Geez! I get the feeling that in the 1950’s, at a time when the laptop had not been invented, they wouldn’t have stared this much. Maybe I’m old school.

How many times have I been on the train and been drawn into someone’s conversation as if we were old friends? How many times??? Too many; That’s how many. “Naw dogg, Bron-Bron ain’t betta din Kobe. Dogg, you trippin. Kobe hitchu like uh-uh-uh-uh-(acting out basketball moves) FADEAWAY! (simulating shot) MAMBA! Bron ain’t got nunna dat dogg. You knaw-yom-talm-bout, right homie? Aye homie. This [colloquial term between African-American males] think Lebron better than Kobe. Trippin, right?” This has happened to me too many times. I know what to do now. Ignore. Keep the old head down. But you know when someone gets into your space, you can feel them. And this guy is getting closer and closer. Finally, I look up and he is right over me. “Aye mayne, you heard what I said?” At this point, my choices are limited. But again, I’ve been in this situation too many times to freeze up. I ran the old faithful play: 1. Open your mouth 2. Point to your ears 3. And shake your head. In sign language that means, I have absolutely no intention of speaking with you. Of course to him, it looks a lot more like I am deaf. Lost in translation I guess. I start looking around for a piece of paper. Finding my train ticket, I scribble on it: Sorry! He does the upward-head-nod oft-referred to on this blog and says "Oh fa sho", apparently temporarily forgetting that he thinks I’m deaf. Or maybe thinking that his enunciation has drastically improved in the last few seconds to the point that I will be able to read his lips. I feel like there was a time when two people would try to keep the volume of their conversation so low that no one would be able to hear what they were saying. Drawing another person into it in an effort to garner support would be completely beyond the pale. Maybe I’m old school.

Lesson Learned #1 - Writing the wrongs

2011-11-13T18:42:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows me probably knows that I like to talk. More than that, I enjoy a good debate. By debate, for reference sake, I mean a thoughtful conversation between two (or more) participants who are relatively equally matched in knowledge and conviction. With that definition eliminating so many conversations, I feel comfortable saying that I have been itching for a good one for quite some time. I'm hungry to get into it with someone who will let me work out this particular mental muscle which I assume must be suffering severe atrophy at this moment.

Lately, I have been testing the waters of certain conversations to determine whether I can dive into a debate but none seem to be appropriate. This has been a blessing in disguise in some ways, though as it slowly making me more gracious. If there is one quality that I have been lacking in over the course of my life, it has been grace; that kind art of letting someone realize how wrong they are, all on their own. In those moments when I feel the need to be more bonhomous than boisterous, I find that what I perceive to be the truth wells up inside of me like raging waters behind a failing damn. It's only a matter of time before I can't hold it back any longer. The truth is that I need this outlet or I won't have any friends! Though I am nowhere near the genius of Dr. House, this situation reminds me of him. How sad his life is when Dr. Wilson doesn't want to be his friend anymore! Since my relationships are the most valued possession that I have, this blog and my Twitter account serve as the guard dog that keeps those relationships safe. So instead jumping headlong into unwarranted debates, I find myself "writing the wrongs" more and more these days.

In addition to rounding out my character and saving my friendships, these experiences have also granted me an opportunity to create an easy-to-calculate system for determining when to speak. This system, I will now share.

You start with 10 points.

-For each person involved in the conversation above 2, you subtract 1 point.

-For each year under 5 that you have known the person with whom you disagree, you subtract 1 point.

-For each time, previous to this conversation that you have debated this point, you subtract 1 point.

-If you would be considered the initiator of the argument or the person that escalated the situation from conversation to debate subtract two points.

-And the big one, if you would concede the argument at any moment when the other person offered irrefutable evidence to support their point, add two points.

If I have 6 points or more, we are about to get it on. With 5 points or less, you may be the subject of a blog. Of course, there are some automatic fail-safe questions like "if you begin to hate each other, or raise your voices, or interrupt one another, quit immediately. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars. But other than that, I have seen this program keep me on people's good sides with ridiculous consistency. What's even better is that I have never done so much journaling in my life!

Capitalism: A lust story

2011-10-23T08:57:00.000-07:00

Everyone seems to have something to say about Occupy Wall Street. I don't. Like so many things, it could have been something, but everyone turned it into politics, so I don't want to play anymore. The thing that is so frustrating to me about it is that we are still attacking the problem from the wrong perspective. We're getting at the fruit and not the root as many old-timers would say. The honest-to-blog truth is that our real problem is that our beloved economic system is not designed to work in an economy this large. Transparency, at some point, is not enough to keep everyone honest because with a system this big, no matter how transparent it is, it is to big too keep an eye on everyone. If you are a hardcore pro-capital libertarian, I understand if you checking out now. That's fine.

I read Alan Greenspan's 500 page door-stop, The Age of Turbulence, a couple of months ago. In it he brags and back-pats his way through crisis after crisis and name-drops like he's at a high school reunion to come to the conclusion at the end that Capitalism is equal to economic freedom and the inherent risk is a skills-test of the market investor. At the end of it, I was sick at myself for thinking he was so brilliant for all of these years. The man is an enabler for a group of very sick people. There are things to be gambled with. I'm no prude, gambling is fun. Other people's lives, however, are not to be included in your ante.

I've got some friends, older gentlemen whom I respect and they love to debate me on this. I like debating with them as well because it's intelligent and not emotional. We genuinely like each other for reasons not related to our economic positions so it's all fun. They always like to tell me to produce a successful example of communism or socialism because they know that I have some serious issues with their baby. And of course, there are some. Most notably China, although one could argue that it enjoys a mixed-system of capitalism and socialism. Personally, I think that the idea of blending the two is perfect. Another example is South Korea, where my sister visits the a state-of-the-art, well-qualified doctor for about 1/30th of what it costs in the good ol' US of A. But I'm not here to offer constructive examples, I just wanna rant.

Yesterday, I read about different economic crises that were large enough to affect the whole world. There have been something in the neighborhood of 15 to 20 in the last 300 to 400 years. These are serious ones. The moments when greed takes hold so deeply that people are risking other people's money in ways that stand to either make a few people grossly rich or everyone grossly poor. The first being in 1637 and the last being one that we are currently mired in. And it's all because of this free-market, invisible hand, Adam Smithian, and even sometimes Keynesian economic malarkey. These systems are not based in freedom as their proponents would have you believe and on some occasions actually believe themselves. Capitalism is based in greed. They have convinced themselves that the lower elements of humanity are the truly motivational elements and therefore our systems should call to those parts of us. This is just pessimistic in my opinion to the point of being counterproductive.

People say it gives the people the freedom to choose from a marketplace of products and wages are set by level of skill and it's all so perfect and markets determine blah blah. What is becomes is a cold-blooded dog-eat-dog system in which people are making decisions on who lives and who dies based on who can produce the highest quality product at the lowest cost. It's like gladiatorial combat where each fighter has to get the approval of the crowd before delivering the death-blow. It's pretty sick if you really think about it. What people don't realize is that they begin working themselves out of a job with every advancement, falsely so-called. What they are actually working towards is their own guillotine but the profit margin won't let them see it until the panic/recession/depression/run on banks hits them square in the face.

No, capitalism is not about freedom. Capitalism is about lust for money: greed. Capitalism is a bad relationship with an abusive boyfriend who we keep running back to because of the great sex. He knows just how to stimulate us in the way we like at the best of times, so we make excuses for him when we show up to work with a black eye. Well I'm gonna tell you a secret about him. Each time we come back to him, he has another justification for his behavior. Despite his promises of reform, he will never stop hitting you, as a matter of fact it's going to keep getting worse. You keep telling him that while you don't appreciate his behavior, it's not a big enough problem to tarnish the other things you like about it.

What is the point of our economic system? At it's root, what is the real object of this whole thing? I always thought it was to regulate the exchange of goods and services between persons to ensure that everyone gets a fair deal; not to get rich. See, people in this country don't want fairness. They want to talk about fairness. They want to say amen when the pastor brings up equality. They want to cheerlead bootstrap success stories but only insomuch as they represent not having to lift a finger to see another person achieve something. We need to have the biggest house so everyone knows we're better than them. This filthy lucre is a message to the world but only if we can compare it to someone else's. The Empire State building is really only astonishing in comparison to all of the others. If every other building was that tall, we 'd want to build something taller. We have a sickness that has been thousands of years of financial competition in the making but it is not too late. We can still live! In reality, if we were to shift our competition from besting one another as citizens to besting other countries as a unit, we could change our entire outlook on economics and bring in a tide that lifts every boat from coast to coast. But we probably won't because we're still tribal in our minds. We want to fight the little war because the big war is inconceivable in our minds, it is too vast for our eyes to capture. Maybe when China starts dominating us in the Olympics too, we'll start to get it.

And who thought that a fiat currency was a good idea? Nothing in history - really listen to me now - NOTHING IN HISTORY has a more perfect record of failure. So it's not surprising that we really sank our teeth into it behind Richard Nixon.

Tales from the train #2

2011-10-03T10:39:00.000-07:00

Kids.

I think it's safe to say that if you are under the age of 18, there is a soft spot in my heart for you. As a matter of fact, if you are more than 3 years younger than me, you are in that same boat as well. I just want to see people have opportunities to do well and be happy. But there is also a level of amusement that comes with watching kids be kids.

The long story that is the afterschool program that I started in San Diego has reached what is possibly the best conclusion possible: being purchased by a larger, national organization that I am now working for. (Really weird how that situation worked out) I couldn't be more happy with this outcome except for the fact that I now relate with a parent's desire (need?) to hold onto the reins even after the world says a child is no longer a child. It's just bittersweet. With that said, it made me realize that sometimes I think of kids as an international organization with a hierarchy that meets in secret to discuss secret plans and decide who's cool and who's not. (I'm pretty sure these meetings are led by Justin Beiber and the girl who sings the Friday song.)

Anyway, it is apparent that something that I've done recently has put me on the cool list and the word has gotten out to all of the kids. The kids that I am responsible for in my work clearly know it. My friend's kids clearly know it. And recently while in transit, I realized that kids on the train know it as well. I took the Gold Line to Union Station the other day and there was a Dad talking on the phone while his daughter (maybe 4 years old) sat next to him, taking tiny, almost disinterested bites out of a chicken drumstick. I chuckle a little bit every time I think about this because the little girl was so cute. Her hair was in a style that denotes so clearly to the world that it was done by a father who will readily admit to being out of his depth in the "little black girl hair-styling" department. Combed back over her head was a full head of now chicken-adorned dark brown waves that separated in the back into two shocks of puffy hair.

I looked at the father, who appeared to be on his way to drop off his daughter before he went to work and we exchanged the international greeting of black guys in public. I'm sure you all know it, but for club-membership reasons, I cannot elaborate. Then I looked down at his daughter, whose interest in the drumstick seemed to be building to the detriment of her school clothes. I smiled. She smiled a genuine, toothy smile. Then something amazing happened. She pulled her smiling lips closed over her teeth and closed her eyes slowly to mimic her best cool-guy facial expression and raised her chin and eyebrows simultaneously to display her best impression of the greeting that she had seen exchanged only seconds before. Then, as if nothing had happened. She went on kicking her dangling feet happily and eating the most oddly timed piece of chicken ever consumed. (I mean, really. Who eats chicken for breakfast?)

Later in the day, lest I think all of this was a figment of my imagination, I'm taking the Blue Line out of Los Angeles and I see a young Hispanic family with a son of probably about 8 years. They are having a spirited, but happy discussion in Spanglish about something relating to the merits of posting a Mexican flag in your front yard if you live in the US. The son, however, was quickly losing interest in the conversation. He was more enraptured by the music coming out of a man's headphones loud enough for everyone in the train car to hear. In the time that we all sat on that train, we hear over half of Jay-Z's Vol. 2: Hard Knock Life which was fine with me, but made me concerned with the well-being of that guy's eardrums. Anyway, when we got to track 6, the young boy apparently couldn't hold his excitement in any longer. Every once in a while I would look over and laugh to see him bobbing his head or attempting to recite the lyrics; but now he was in full b-boy stance beginning what can only be described as a half Dougie - half clown walk amalgamation.

Truthfully, by the time it was over the whole episode was kind of amazing. The father of the dancer and the man with the music exchanged daps and hugs, as onlookers cheered, and only the most vulgar of the lyrics were skipped as half of the car chanted the words to the Jay-Z and DMX classic. When the magic of the moment began to dissipate, the music man shook the little guy's hand and his dad tousled his sons hair lightly. All eyes were on this young man as if they expected him to give a speech. Instead, he casually walked over to me, extended a clenched hand to about 10 inches from my chest and gave me a straight-faced fist bump that left everyone, myself included, in stunned amazement. Out of all of the people on the train, why me? Why two kids in that one day? And why so serious?

My life in lyrics #1

2011-09-07T09:44:00.000-07:00

Hold on, there's a hole in my heart
Everyone can see right through me
It goes all the way to the waves
Where my love she tried to wash it away

See she breaks for the summer
so she can find lovers
She thinks they are bottles of wine
They make you dinner
and they sing you to sleep
but by the morning find the bottle is empty

'Cause she never gives it the time
Every bottle she finds
They don't compare
to the ones she left behind
There is never a note
So she waits for me to come back home

I'm looking for a dead end song
You wish that smoke
could change its color
Oh I love it when you talk so much
and act like nothing went wrong

I'm looking for a dead end song
We sit and find flaws in everyone
I want to keep you by my side
Holding off tidal waves

Tales from the train #1

2011-08-11T10:20:00.000-07:00

This year I have been exploring the depths of human suffering known as Los Angeles County public transportation. I have tried to keep these stories inside for long enough, but they need to come out. Expect sporadic entries involving the many personalities, conversations, and scents that I encounter on this adventure.

Crazy People Love me

What is it about me that attracts the crazies? They love me for some reason! The other day, I'm on the train going to work and a seemingly normal woman in her late 40's walks up to me and asks one of those questions that let's you know instantly that she's a little off.

"Do you have email?", she asks.

I look down at my newspaper just to be sure.

"Yes ma'am, it's 2011." At this point, only she could tell you if I actually said it out loud. For a brief moment, I forgot that she was probably going to follow-up by asking if she could send me something. I let my mind wander around the train trying to figure out if there was one person in the whole train car who didn't have an email account, who would it be. I settled on the elderly Asian woman who was screaming at a deaf guy that she didn't want to buy his bracelet - a waste of time in any language but she gave her best effort in at least two.

"I'd like to send you something" she snapped me out of it. I looked up at the Red line map. Three more exits to go. I offered a stare as blank as I could muster. I couldn't risk a smile being misinterpreted as an agreement to the terms of her proposed relationship that would involve giving out the means of my least personal form of communication.

"It's a video, and I'd like you to watch the whole thing and just think about it." I squinted a little and let out a grunt that acknowledged that she was speaking. 2 more stops. I can't figure out a way to get out of this without speaking. Think fast.

"What is it about?". Smooth move, Nay. No commitments.

"I don't want to tell you. I'd just like you to watch it and really give it some thought." Touche, awkwardly forward woman on the train. Touche.

"It's about an hour long"

WHAT? Are you serious? You're honestly sitting there holding your phone, waiting to receive my email address after knowing me for a grand total of 1 minute and 19 seconds thinking that I'm going to sit in front of a computer and open a link or attachment that you send me based on what? The strong bond of trust that we have? Let's say it doesn't blow up my computer instantly. Do I strike you as the guy who has an hour to sit in front of the computer and consider something based on your recommendation?

Maybe it was a lucky guess. Or maybe I give off the unfortunate vibe of a guy who sits in front of the computer a lot. Last night, around 3:30, I had pretty much given up on sleep, so I opened the video. I was right. That lady is crazy. Here is the entire text of the email with a link to a video.

Fw: Angelica Testimony: MICHEAL JACKSON, SELENA and ETC in HELL !!!

Dear Young Man,

I saw you on the train today. This which is listed below is real and is not fictional. I stopped to tell you about it because I wanted you to consider the evidence. Thank you for letting me share this with you.

Check out this video on YouTube:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqwgVo33dyA&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Stupid Democrats

2010-11-02T12:57:00.000-07:00

I just read this website that enumerates the accomplishments of our embattled President. This man won on the crest of a wave of support from all over the country but now it seems that he is down in the dumps in the same way that President Bush was a few years ago. His approval ratings are down, this election seems to be a call to action against his agenda, and he's aging in that terrible way that residents of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. always seem to. What happened? He made all of these promises and kept them (or is in the process of keeping them). If you read East Coast (read: elitist) newspapers, you probably see him as a child bumbling around happily and naively around the White House playing dress up in daddy's clothes. If you have money and are anything like the people who get shown on cable TV, you probably see him as the taxman coming to take your money like Robin Hood to give it to people who weren't fortunate enough to be born with your God-given work ethic. If you're unemployed, you probably see him as another aloof politician in a suit who sees your financial problem as a political one. I honestly think all of these positions are fair. But the perspective that you never hear is the important one in this case to understanding the situation. The relevant perspectives have this way of being drowned out by the ones with the loudest voice, the catchiest name, or the most money. Now, I'll say this as a disclaimer: I'm a liberal. But I have a very good reason (I think). When I was young, my dad told me what to do if ever someone didn't like me. He said that they were drawing a circle of friends and everyone on the inside of that circle was in the category of "Us" and that everyone else was "Them". When a person doesn't like you, they put you on the outside of their circle. My dad told me that the best way to have friends is to draw a bigger circle that includes more people (including the ones that have drawn you out of theirs!).

I love this theory for looking at politics, especially now. I am friends with pastors, priests, homosexuals, minorities, people from New Jersey and pretty much everything else that you could name. I genuinely believe that this kind of lifestyle is the only way to really understand the world, but I digress. I think today's Democrats (and pretty much all post-Tammany Hall Dems) espouse this theory simply because it expands their voting base. If you're the only politician that doesn't treat an immigrant/minority/homosexual/Southern (Oh LORD)/religious person like dirt, then of course they'll vote for you. The one thing I've learned about politics using this strategy is that liberalism is an unsustainable value to hold. The fact of the matter is that your average American liberal is fighting for someone underprivileged, under-fed, under-represented, or otherwise under-appreciated. So, in their quest to deliver aid to these people the leftists work themselves out of a job. The better liberal you are, the fewer people that will need you by the definition that I just offered. That is the definition of an unsustainable position; if you help them, they will leave you! So as I browsed the website that tallies all of these gigantic accomplishments that have occurred in the last two years, I could only think about whether our President and his Congress of tax-and-spend liberals made the right decision. Is it beneficial to spin your wheels against the grain in order to make sure that a student can go to college, knowing that they will take their knowledge and skill and use it to keep others from reaching the same level? Is there a point to awarding tax breaks to people who will hoard the resources in times of global economic recession? Is it unsophisticated to think that granting rights for Cuban-Americans to travel back and forth won't result in disastrous anti-USA actions?

In election season, what's more important to the politicians is whether the people will remember. Will they remember who made their health insurance coverage or education possible? Will they be able to recall in the voting booth, the name of the people responsible for that new or restored highway? Can the mind reach far back enough to remember a time when troops were being deployed instead of brought home? Probably not. Welcome to the land of "you better get yours, cuz I got mine". Now show me some kind of identification or you're getting deported.

The 9/23 Mixtape

2010-09-23T08:12:00.000-07:00

Dear People,

I love you. So, armed with that knowledge, know that if you don't see me for a while it's because I'm doing things that are a bit more time-sensitive than talking to you. But of course, none of these things are nearly as enjoyable. Speaking of things that I enjoy: You may remember how I love the jubilant raucous of a good Hip-Hop record.

A few weeks ago, I put some funky tunes on a local jukebox and attracted some compliments on taste. Since then, I've been beleaguered with demands for music every time I see the folks (one gent in particular) who were there. So without further adieu, I make good on that promise with the 9.23 mixtape (which serves as the aural embodiment of this morning's lack of sleep.)

Click here to download it!

Ps. It comes with a tracklist and an MS Paint file if that wasn't enough for you!

Full-court mess

2010-07-14T09:37:00.000-07:00

So, Decision 2010 is a wrap. Lebron's self-coronation as the King of Miami seems to have gone off without a hitch, depending on who you ask. The owner of the Cavs seems to think that Lebron being the King of Miami makes about as much sense as the Last King of Scotland being from Uganda. Then of course, there's Jesse Jackson who says that Lebron's former boss looks at him as a runaway slave. First of all, I love it and hate it when Jesse Jackson talks. I love it, because it is usually a recipe for pure comedy; it's a lot like having Michael Scott appear as a guest speaker at a business conference. By that, I mean that it is mostly for comic relief. Why people still take him seriously is beyond me, but what do I know? I'm the guy who thinks that athletics should take a back-seat to oil spills, financial reform bills, police who murder civilians on camera and get off with a slap on the wrist, etc. Maybe I'm the crazy one.

But is there any truth to what Mr. Jackson said? Of course there is. But as long as a person is being paid above minimum wage and can leave whenever they like, the connection to slavery will be a tough one to make. On top of that, what slave did you know who moved South by choice? and so publicly! Was it necessarily racist? No, probably not. Now, as a reader of this blog will know, I don't have a problem calling out racism when it is there, but I just don't know if it fits this time. See, there is a disproportionate relationship between profits from sports and athlete's salaries. But since there is so much money it the enterprise, the athletes still get MUCH more than they actually need to live quite comfortably. What this means is that someone is becoming ASTRONOMICALLY wealthy every time an athlete becomes relatively rich. That isn't necessarily an issue since the owners of teams take great entrepreneurial risk when they begin or buy a franchise. The issue arises in two areas: First, is the way that players are traded like commodities. Gilbert's claim that loyalty should be an issue is moot since they trade players each day if they feel that it will positively affect the bottom line. The second issue is the unfair control of marketing in the NBA. The players' contracts bind them to whatever marketing scheme the league chooses to use and thereby makes them complicit in any statement made by the league or teams. As the face and talent of the NBA, the athletes hold all of the physical ability, take all of the physical risk, and exert all of the physical energy. Yet, they take only a small percentage of the profits and have an extremely limited say in what they are made to say. This trend can be seen all over the place as the talent takes home enough to be richer than their neighborhood friends but significantly poorer than the sale of their talent suggests that they could/should be. See: Rappers, athletes, skilled laborers, etc.

I know what you're thinking: "That's business". (Right??? That's what you were thinking, isn't it!?!?) But that isn't all of business. That's an old model of business based on an idea of inequality from birth. It is called feudalism. Equals do not engage one another in this way. Equality suggests that if one person has means and another doesn't, then the person without means is subservient for a time until dues have been paid and equality can be reinstated. Remember that we live in America: where indentured servitude provided a path for escaping the social trap of feudal Europe and monarchical rule based on supposed inequality. I'm of the belief that an American business should be run more like a law firm than a European manor or old American plantation. If you remain loyal, work hard, win cases/games, etc., you are on a path to partnership. Of course, a free man has the choice to live as a free agent and sell his productivity on a contract basis, but if you want to be a part of something, you should be able to. Last time, I checked, the "N" in NBA stood for national, and the nation is the United States of America. If a player devotes 7 years of his career to a team, how is it possible that he has no say in what players are brought in to assist in his efforts? In such a situation, who wouldn't take the opportunity to play for a team that looks poised to claim the one last goal that has been able to evade the grasp of the league's most valuable player (as in, whose value is assessed most easily and frequently)?

Jesse Jackson thinks that the Lebron saga is something like that of Fredrick Douglas, but I think he's a little off. NBA players are something more like sharecroppers today than slaves. Still, I think it's about time we moved them from the farm to the Firm.

New Stuff!

2010-06-13T20:52:00.000-07:00

The times they are a-changin'. I think I heard a bum say that or something. Anywho, we've got a new piece that's been added to the Schola. A movie review and film-related section has been added and the page can conveniently be found here or by clicking the above "movie reviews" link. They are written be a San Diegan movie aficionado and avid Prince (formerly known as the Artist formerly known as Prince) fan. Let him know what you think!

Best/Worst of 2002

2010-06-11T22:26:00.000-07:00

I have a love/hate relationship with best/worst list. They are subject to debate and how does one actually rate things on scale from 1-10. Well as I was doing some late night cleaning I can across a list of movies that I felt at the time were the best and worst of 2002. Let the debate begin!

The Best
1. Changing Lanes
2. Signs
3. Insomnia
4. Frailty
5. Panic Room
6. Ice Age
7. Attack OF The Clones
8. Spiderman
9. XXX
10. Barbershop

The Worst
1.Rollerball
2. Men In Black 2
3.Undisputed
4. Men In Black 2
5. Snow Dogs

Now according to my list I only saw 37 movies that year, a possible low for me but right or wrong that is the year as I saw it...

An Immaculate Concept

2010-06-01T23:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I tried out a coffee shop in my new neighborhood. I guess its "my new coffee shop": partly because I just moved here and partly because it's a pretty new shop. As I sat there, something happened that has never happened in all my years of coffee shopping here in San Diego: Someone came up and asked me to stop doing what I was doing to explain to them what I was doing. I'm sure that it happens all of the time, because I see it happening all of the time but this was a first for me. My theory is that my recent haircut makes me look less militant and more approachable...I can't wait for it to grow back.

As I walk this 60 something year old woman through the concept of a blog, I see the concern building in her spirit. She clearly had lots to say, but was attempting to choose her words carefully. She had already provided many of the first conversation classics like "you're so eloquent" and "you look just like [insert Black person]"; so now she was going to pull out the big guns and remind me of my place. "What makes you think people should listen to what you have to say", she asked me with complete sincerity. I was a bit stunned for a second but then I realized that this thought process could be quite pervasive among those who don't frequent the Schola (and possibly some who do!). I decided to break it down for her as I now will for you. See, I don't think that my opinion has any more value than that of any other 20 something male of equal experience and education. I make no claims of greatness, I just happen to be generous with my opinions because I have been blessed with them in abundance. I fully acknowledge my shortcomings and remember my every failure. I rain harsh judgement upon those who I think are in the social wrong, but not to the exclusion of myself. In my opinion, that is the all-important difference between my internet finger-pointing and more serious forms of self-righteousness.

Disclaimer: Longest sidenote of all time ahead:

My ill-fated attempt to end the conversation was a reference to Jesus' defense of the woman caught in adultery. I said "I know I'm a sinner, but somebody's gotta cast the first stone". She pounced! "Ooh, you know your Scriptures?!" I recoiled. "They aren't mine, but I'm familiar with them", I replied. From there, she attempted to convert me to her odd brand of Christianity that apparently involved offending people with her surprise that they can form sentences and remember Bible stories between services. I told her that I didn't have time to refute every aspect of her pitch, but I would knock out the one that seemed most relevant to our interaction. She agreed and we each ordered another beverage. As I sat, stirring my Soy Vanilla Chai Latte, I asked who would be qualified to throw the first stone. She said, as I expected, that Jesus was the only perfect person to ever walk the earth. Ignoring for a moment, that Jesus worked on the Sabbath and got called out for it publicly, I reminded this dear woman of the Christian concept of Immaculate Conception. For those who don't have their concordance of ridiculous religious terms handy: this is the belief that Jesus was not born a sinner like everyone else. Once theologians (I believe it was Augustine) made up the concept of original sin, they had to quickly think of a reason that it wouldn't apply to Jesus. The reason they came up with was that his Father was G-d and his mother was Mary, (and this is the fun part) who was also completely without sin. That's right, Mary the Mother of Jesus was completely sinless according to this doctrine.

Having never previously seen the face of a woman who believes that she is hearing the words that will damn a person to hell, I had to take a sip of my tea to hide the smile that was appearing around the corners of my mouth. "I know what you're thinking" I said. "Why did I think immaculate conception meant something completely different, relating to Mary being a virgin?" Frankly, I don't know why people think that. It probably goes back to the Catholic practice of keeping the text in a language that no one spoke so that they could disseminate it as they saw fit instead of making it available to everyone. Anywho, this befuddled woman was now forced to listen to me rattle off about the concept of original sin and the tightrope -walk that the creators of this story set up for themselves when they decided to try to separate Jesus from the rest of the world (full of people who they say are sinners from birth) while still leaving him human enough to be an appropriate human sacrifice for sin. And as I got done with that point, I hit her with a barrage of questions that I was sure would compel her to never speak to anyone in a coffee shop again: If Mary was sinless, why didn't her death absolve the world's debt of sin to G-d? If Mary was able to live a completely sinless life on her own AND raise the LORD's kid at the same time, isn't she perfect on her own and doesn't the concept of salvation by grace go out the window? Wouldn't it be funny if she showed up and cast a stone at the adulterous woman just to remind everyone that she was without sin?

I could see from my new friend's clear discomfort that she was wishing that I wasn't so "surprisingly well-spoken". So I decided it was about time to attempt to drive my blogging point home with as much levity as possible. "You know what I hate", I asked her.

She became frustrated and halfway shouted at me "You have to believe in something!". I was only a little bit amused at this since its completely untrue. I replied almost in instinct, "I do. I believe in two things." She seemed incredulous at this point but her arms uncrossed and she leaned forward. "I believe that there is none righteous. No, not one", I casually quoted while packing up my backpack. "And I believe I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico"

For Goodness' Sake

2010-05-18T08:43:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, my Rabbi called me out for not having read my weekly Torah portion. This is especially bad because in San Francisco a few months back, I bought a Young Men's Torah Commentary that was supposed to keep me interested enough to get through at least one year without missing. Oh well. But once I actually sat down to read it, I was immediately annoyed with how small it made me feel. This week's reading is Naso, which means "to lift up" but I didn't find Numbers 4:21-7:89 to be very uplifting. It went from the banality of priestly purification instructions, to the significance and specifics of a Nazarite vow, to some half-voodoo procedures for figuring out if your wife is cheating on you (Yes, that's in the Bible. Numbers, chapter 5. I encourage you to look it up, but the short version is you have a holy person make an elixir and then force your wife to recite an oath so that if she gets caught lying, terrible things will happen to her!)

But all of this is supposed to have to do with the purity of the people. Because after all, how can we tell the good guys from the bad guys if they all look the same, right? They are running into a similar problem down in Arizona right now. Moving on...Its just interesting to me that the focus seems to be on not being like everyone else. All of the other wandering desert people were considered to be filthy and would eat anything they could kill. The Israelites were the people of G-d and as such there would be no pork or foreskin! (Yeah, that didn't do it for me either) There are many special ways to set one's self apart from everyone else in these passages but at the very end, we see that everyone's sacrifice is a mirror image of one another. Each man from each household brought the exact same offering! So after sitting in front of some of the hardest verses in the world to get through, I was left feeling small and truthfully kind of empty. It was like the point of this reading was to say that despite all of my best efforts, at the end of the day I'm just like everyone else in the eyes of anyone who will ever matter. No matter if I have long hair, never eat anything unclean, dedicate my body to the service of the LORD and find a good wife, I still bring the same peace offering, burnt offering, and sin offering. At least in Catholicism, the priest decides how many Hail Mary's you say based on what you did wrong!

So, I call this religious sage back and say that I wish I hadn't read it. If all it served to do was to remind me of how insignificant this existence is, then I would do without it. To me, it seems that the position of Deity is one of indifference toward the actions of humanity. Assuming we were created and have a purpose, why are we allowed not to fulfill it? More importantly, what is the point of fulfilling our purpose if we all still look the same in the eyes of the One we're working so hard to please? (At this point, were we not on the phone, I would start to get embarrassed as I saw the calm, sly smile sneaking around the creases of his mouth. It's the most kind form of condescension) He cleared his throat and asked me, "Who brought the first offering?" Pages flipped furiously, then silence. His name was Nahshon, son of Amminidab.

"I don't know how we look to Ha-Shem" he said. "I don't know what happens after we die, either. But what I do know is that sometimes we don't know the full scope of our significance." I wasn't with him just yet. Was it actually possible that this perfectly delivered answer had made me feel even more small? This was getting ridiculous. "Maybe nothing happens when you die," he continued. "I suppose it's even possible that the afterlife was simply created to keep the goyim from tearing this place apart. What I do know is that the world is overrun with people who never see beyond gratifying themselves, who act on every selfish impulse, and who destroy much better than they build. There are those who have killed others with only the thought of how it will 'improve' the lives of those who they deemed worthy of life." He paused for a moment and I heard some shuffling on his end that usually indicates the nearing end of the conversation as he prepares for his next meeting. "I also know that a centuries-old, Jewish man is your namesake; you, who were born to Gentiles. Is that because of his faithfulness in this situation? That isn't for us to know. (He WAS also the first person to step onto the dry land of the Red Sea when Moses parted it) But with so many acts of hatred and violence on this earth, I think we do know that the things you do for goodness' sake have significance."

I'm not saying that

2010-04-30T07:29:00.000-07:00

I've been learning lately that some of the most important things in a conversation are the things that are unsaid. Oddly enough, it was texting (a conversation where nothing is 'said' per se) that helped me to arrive at this conclusion. Often when texting, I realize that there is a concept that both parties are hinting at, that neither is coming out to say. So, if you and a friend want to meet up somewhere after work, you might receive a message that says "What are you doing?" instead of one that asks "Are you free?". The purpose is to avoid extending one's self and being rejected if the other party has another idea. The reason that this occurs with texting instead of phone or face-to-face interactions is that in those other situations, a person can usually read into the intentions of others based on facial cues and vocal inflections. Being direct, via text, is a rare commodity except in the case of the more recent phenomenon of "sexting" (which, itself, probably takes a little warming up to). This whole thing reminds me of the 2nd episode of 30 Rock, when Tracy meets show producer, Pete Hornberger. His first words are, "You smoke weed, right Pete?" Even in how direct that question is, it avoids any commitment on the part of the asker but requires full commitment by the person being asked. "The interviewer's benefit" is something that we learned as children e.g., "I asked you first!".

Another realm where people are very careful to mask their true intentions in speech is politics. What may seem like senseless double-talk to some or may appear like an ambivalence to issues of policy to others is often a calculated method of speaking that takes care not to over-expose the true intentions of the speaker. This is the reason for the cue card retorts and party line responses when David Gregory asks a direct question to Timothy Geithner about being behind on projections for economic recovery and whether or not the stimulus is "working" (which might be the dumbest question ever asked on Meet the Press since the job of a stimulus is to stimulate and it's still up to the people who get stimulated to make the money flow into the veins of the American economy). The death of words like "yes" and "no" in politics are a great marker of who we are as a people. It's not that these answers have become less true or appropriate, but more-so that the fear of reprisal surrounding their use has become to great. Imagine the lifespan of a politician who said what they believed even when it ran contrary to the minutes from the party meeting.

But let's take it a step further. Let's imagine for a minute, that this land has not progressed as far as we'd like to hope. Let's imagine for a moment that some folks' biggest fear is not being exposed as a flip-flopper but as something more sinister and maybe more accurate. Let's take, for instance, the writers of the Arizona immigration law SB1070 which essentially mandates that anyone who cannot pass a visual inspection by law enforcement officials must always be prepared to show exhaustive evidence to their citizenship at all times. Let's say that these politicians were asked about their true feelings regarding legal immigration, day labor during hard economic times, the education disparity in Arizona based on socio-economic lines, and the role of the Hispanic community in the greater scheme of America. I would imagine that there would be a lot of recognizable political jargon about the pitiable taxpayer being taken advantage of by the southern plague of opportunists and freeloaders. That cloak of Patriotism is a mask for the true intentions of this brood; and their coded message about taxes and saving American work for Americans is only meant to be understood by those who know the code.

We have become a country of pretenders who glean an idea of acceptable normalcy from pop culture and do our best to fit in by using PC terms and coded language to hide our discontent. In reality, sides are still being taken and despite the smiles that we present to one another, some in this country are not happy with the fact that brown folks can get a good job or that black folks can live at 1600 Pennsylvania. They are getting better at pretending, so we need to get better at calling them out. (Let's start with famed racist and renowned law enforcement personality, Sheriff Joe.) Sifting through the code will help us to see that it was never about taxes, values, the rule of law or anything they try to pull out of the hat. It's a simple issue of hate. "We want our country back" when the Hispanic population grows exponentially or there arises a Black president, celebrating "Confederate History Month" in Southern states, and removing sexual orientation from the list of things that an employer is prohibited from discriminating against: These are messages that they are sending. Can you crack the code?

A Twitter Army?

2010-04-19T08:20:00.000-07:00

(If you don't know rap or rappers, here's all you need to know to understand this post: Jay-Z is the only man to outsell the Beatles and have more number 1 albums than Elvis. He said this about Talib Kweli: "If skills sold, truth be told I'd probably be lyrically Talib Kweli." Which is to say that Talib's lyricism is quite literally to be respected by all and in the world of music he is quite a significant figure)

One popular conversation piece in today's social-media-conscious era is on the merit of Twitter; and for good reason. I think it's easy to recognize the power of the social networking website without understanding its usefulness. This stems from the fact that its framers purposefully left their creation so open-ended. Some people use it to distribute the news, some to advertise business, others to give a window into their personalities, and still more for various other means. This weekend, rapper Talib Kweli harnessed the power of Twitter to mobilize his entire following in the search for one man: a thief who robbed a laptop and baseball cap from the rapper's dressing room.

According to local (San Diego, Ca) time, the first mention of the incident on Twitter was at 5:52 pm on April 17th. Talib had already come to a conclusion concerning what happened in his room and put the word out that he was simply looking for the person who opened for him. This was followed quickly by a message to the event location manager imploring him to pursue a speedy resolution to the issue that occurred on his watch. After about 30 minutes, Kweli confirmed via Twitter that he had access to security footage and has seen the person's picture. Three hours later, the picture was on Twitter. This is where it got interesting. In the hours that followed, I went to bed. But remember, I'm on Pacific Standard Time and they were across the world. Here's what I found when I woke up: Celebrities and real people alike took to Twitter to assist the Brooklyn MC in his quest to reclaim his laptop with his personal files including music (which is, between artists and in consideration of intellectual property, a really messed up thing to steal). There are far too many to name or link all of them but ?uestLove of the legendary Roots crew as well as the 88 Keys, Naughty by Nature, Jean Grae, and Royce da 5'9 were among those that Kweli thanks for assisting with the resolution of this caper. Beyond star power, an army of retweeters emerged from among the artists' followings on Twitter until Talib was able to tweet that he had the name, employment information, facebook link, multiple pictures, and work telephone number of the young man who burgled him. At this point, the end was only a matter of time. Twitter had earned its keep for the week.

After a call to the local police by the location manager as well as threats of further embarrassment, specifically at his place of employment, the laptop was returned and Kweli's online victory lap began. With respect to all of the people involved who went beyond the call of duty to help someone because they are friends or fans or family; and with respect to all of the other (probably much more important) questions to ask about artistic cannibalism, event security, proper procedure after a theft, and the safety of the accused, it is still important to note that in a matter of around 26 hours, one artist's worldwide network of around 1360, 000 followers solved and resolved a crime. I believe Talib Kweli Greene himself, said it best: With friends like these, who needs police?

On the Vicar of Christ

2010-04-14T04:02:00.000-07:00

I'm finding it interesting that this outrage over the Pope's pedophilia cover up hasn't bubbled over yet. But I guess after centuries of listening to a guy tell you what is right vs. wrong, it's hard to be the first one to disagree. I understand that some people don't feel like they have any basis for their morality if it isn't handed down from a guy in a pointy hat, but this is a great teaching moment. As the dim light of seldom used bulbs above the heads of these masses begin to illuminate the night sky, we might just be at the break of a new day! What would happen if an entire culture began to experience a "who guards the guardians" moment and installed some type of checks and balances into their religious order? Is it possible to break the imaginary chains of man-made systems of morality that prevent condom use in Africa but protect pederasts? I sure hope so.

Here is the problem, the volume needs to get turned up. People are murmuring in Mass like the children of Israel in the wilderness attempting to decided who would be sent to deliver the message that instead of waiting for Moses they had decided to go another way. Unfortunately, while the religious folk try to decide who will play Aaron, the secular crowd is moving ahead with things like "prosecution" and "the rule of law". These mere trifles of policy flatly prescribe jail time for perpetrators and accomplices of criminal activity and as you know, in the criminal justice system, sexually based crimes are seen as especially heinous. Translation: if you don't figure out a way to handle this "in-house", the non-believers are going left with no choice but to handle your Pope like they would any other person who uses their authority to hurt children. I'll give you a hint, it rhymes with "orange jumpsuit".

Don't believe me? Of course not. Well let's start with the most famous Atheist in the world and work backwards. Richard Dawkins is calling for and attempting to arrange the arrest of the pope when he leaves the comfort of his wannabe-theocratic palace and steps foot into Great Britain. Now, if you are anything like me, you think that this is ridiculous and you know it isn't going to happen. No one is going to let this happen although by rights it should (unless there is a statute of limitation that I don't know about). The solution, it seems, is to handle this situation within the government of the Catholic church. Re-assemble the council that appoints the Pope and lock that door, as is the custom, until they reach TWO decisions. First, how to best remove and replace Mr. Ratzinger and second, how best to repent from, correct, and prevent future occurrence of this terrible crime/sin/offense to humanity.

In reality, I don't want Richard Dawkins running things for the same reason that I don't want the Pope and his goons running things: They have far too much passion in connection with their beliefs to make issues of morality with a clear head. But if it comes down to supporting his movement vs. no movement at all, I'm with Rick.

Why can't we be friends Pt. 3

2010-04-12T12:55:00.000-07:00

The differences that make us the same

Lately, the faux-populist movement surrounding the presidency of Barack Obama manifested itself in a movie called “By the People”. I was struck by the idea that being a man of the people is so important to us. But which people? There is a remnant of folks in this country (about half as many people as are currently unemployed in this country) who doubt his right to claim this land’s highest office for one reason or another. At least, within the United States we have the same starting point (at least we should): Our Patriotism. Beyond our borders, the problem is compounded as patriotism becomes our foe in the battle for peace.

This morning in the shower, I thought about the cultural differences that seem so insurmountable among cultures. My thoughts, as always, centered around my various, unrealistically ambitious hypotheses for world peace. Of course, in practice I didn’t come up with anything. But in searching for a overly simplistic method for describing the differences, I arrived at some interesting thoughts which I will now share.(These ideas are purely from my own observation and cannot be taken as generalize-able to any worldview besides my own. My mind naturally searches for themes and sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t. With that said, If you are willing to engage my thoughts for a moment, you might end up enjoying yourself.)

It seems to me that our position in life, especially in relation to our foreign neighbors, draws heavily on our socialization and what things we hold in high esteem. In terms of religion, we attempt to mimic the things that we deify. In terms of politics, we tend to vote for the qualities that appreciate in ourselves and therefore perpetuate the cycle. Not to worry, the rabbit hole gets so much deeper!

Last month, I spent a lot of time reading about the ancient dynasties of China, from which I took the idea that they are really old! I realize that is putting the issue simply but it is quite important to the true nature of these ancient people. The Xia dynasty, which is widely considered to be the first of the “historical” dynasties (versus the ones that we consider to be “mythological” or full of um…myth) is one of the oldest civilizations on earth. That, combined with the fact that they were so insulated from the rest of the world, allowed the people of this region to develop their entire culture separate from outside influence. This culture included technological advancements, education, art, and methods for transmitting their history to the many generations that followed. There is a sense of connectedness even through the sometimes bloody dynastic transitions of the Far East. This is because they have come to appreciate things like age and wisdom. They deify their ancients because they know of and understand them. They value their elders and place the biggest workload on their young males (to a fault, some may say). What does this aged civilization value? They value family; which is an expression of their view of respectful structure, connectedness, love, and respect. The tenants of Confucian philosophy give little thought to the idea of the afterlife but instead give principles for harmonious, long life. It would seem that that a culture that deifies age and wisdom, would expectedly breed patience, and have little in common with a 200 year old democratic rags to riches story.

Contrast those values with those of Middle-eastern cultures, which have for centuries been powerhouses of learning and knowledge. Pop-quiz: what is the most text-intensive of the main religions of the world? Islam, you know: the one from the Middle East. The thing that many in this country recognize Islam for is violence. But what is the aim of the violence? For centuries, by the sword, Muslim conquerors forced infidels to read and learn. Kind of an end-justifies-means thing, I suppose. In the part of the world that invented the numeric system that most of the world uses today and has served as the world’s library and history book almost since its inception, knowledge is power. If you don’t believe me, then you’ve probably never heard of the Library of Alexandria. Yeah, that’s the library that’s older than many of the world’s current civilizations. This culture values its knowledge so much that it currently guards it from those seen as unworthy but smothers the “true believers” with it to ensure prolonged supremacy (at least in the minds of those who can’t recognize how some of the concepts have become antiquated and cannot cope with the idea of modernizing their understanding). Since they value knowledge, it’s a pretty safe bet that a popular political figure will be highly educated, although of late, there are significant exceptions. But for an example, check out the academic resume of the late Benazir Bhutto (did Zia kill Bhutto?) But think about how it’s completely possible that a region dominated by a religion based on humble submission and a culture built around knowledge would have a problem with the pomp of American culture despite its youthful ignorance. Makes sense.

So over on our side, what do we value? Who do we deify? Are not our heroes the revolutionaries and economic self-starters? Don't we love our entrepreneurs? That's why we love seeing our names in the by-line. Why do we remember George Washington, the Wright Bros, Eli Whitney, Einstein, Ben Franklin, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, and and the good folks over at Google? We are the newbies, and don’t have thousands of history to sift through. That makes this job a lot easier. We value the spirit upon which we were founded. We are enamored at the concept that a man can go out and carve out something for himself. Making a country from scratch, starting a business, having a child, building a fort, personal-this, custom-that. The American-Christian God is the Creator. And to be like Him, we procreate, making men in our own image. We judge our greatness by the things we have made and accumulated. We made “civilization” of “chaos”, made sky-scrapers of steel (which we make from Iron and Carbon), make history of short time, and make children out of our love. We’re not old enough to value patience or smart enough to value knowledge, but we have become drunk on the wine of our own mind-grapes. Innovation is our original industry and for that reason, we can never die. Unfortunately, that also means that we can never afford to retire. LORD bless this world that we live in. And G-d bless America.

How to sell nothing

2010-04-08T10:07:00.000-07:00

"Those rap guys" are often self-lauded with accolades pertaining to their ability to sell addicting, albeit potentially harmful or completely unnecessary substances, objects, and ideas.

"I sell ice in the winter, I sell fire in hell. I am a hustler, baby, I'll sell water to a well"

(c) Jay-Z

The person who can achieve this end is called a "Hustler", regardless to the actual commodity for trade.. The roots of this can be traced back to the generally accepted dog-eat-dog nature of nontaxable employment in the inner-city during the 1970's and 1980's when some of the legends of urban criminality walked the streets. The hustler was looked on as a menace by the large majority of the self-proclaimed upstanding because of the way that his success negatively affected those around him. (What's ironic is that through a few devious acts, [like this and this] it was those upstanding folks who created the whole situation. #SMH)

On a completely unrelated note, but with a cold transition and no segue, Apple's Ipad is a smash success in these rough economic times despite most of us being completely unsure what we're shelling out 500 bucks for. I decided my best bet was to check one out for myself. So when someone brought one to work, I did...And I remain un-converted. After playing with it for a couple of hours, I jumped on Google and typed in "What's so special about the Ipad?". The rest is hilarious history as I found out that the answer is nothing. My next natural question is "Why?". This is my nature. I want to know why it's sweeping the nation. I want to know why it's not only the commercial on the news show, but it's also what the newscasters are talking about. The truth is, amidst all of the new commercials, for new toys, I don't think there is a new answer. But there might be an old answer...

Remember back in the 90's when the White House was occupied by Clinton/Gore. I know some of you only remember the sex part, but there were a few backdoor deals being done with clothes on as well. You'll recall, this is around the time that we're laughing at Al Gore for claiming to have invented the Internet. Ok, well back in the day, Mr. Gore uh....let's say encouraged the Department of Justice to prosecute Microsoft pursuant to new Anti-Trust laws. Then, while campaigning for President, Gore went back to Microsoft's offices just to wag his finger in their faces again about how bad they had been and how competition is blah, blah, blah. Now, all of that is well and good. Except that this was only the set up; just a little market research and elimination of competition. This is what we call a Kansas City Shuffle. He's gonna make everyone look left and then he's gonna go right. Just watch. But this is just the inciting incident. The catalyst, if you will. (Because everyone knows that you can't have a Kansas City Shuffle without a body.)

Let's talk about why such a useless product gets so much airtime beyond the fact that we like toys. Keep digging through information that these people aren't even ashamed enough to try to hide and find that Gore's former press secretary (Marla Romash) married into the private sector PR game and represented many of the companies supporting the government prosecution of Microsoft and suing them in separate cases. It would seem that the man who sicced his dogs from the Department of Justice on Microsoft in 1999 is the same guy trying to sell you an Ipad today. Al Gore is on the board of directors at Apple, his PR lady is taking care of the competition. I'm not sure if we should call it "iHustle" or "One heck of a 10 year plan"

Don't wait for the bread to rise

2010-03-29T07:41:00.001-07:00

This will work best if you read Exodus 13 and 14 first but that's not a requirement...

Last week, Jason and I were discussing the date of Passover in relations to Easter and Lent. I had heard that some Christians had taken up the celebration of Passover and I wasn't sure if they used the modern, solar-based calendar that the church uses or if they were celebrating on the 15th day of Nisan according to the ancient calendar of the Jews. (Semi-Unrelated rant alert: The reason that it is confusing is the mixing of Jewish with Christian traditions in order to confuse people into looking at the two as one and the first as a prelude to the second. Attaching Easter to Passover allows people to think of Jesus as the lamb whose blood gets spread on the door-post as the symbol of salvation. The funny thing is that they probably realized it was a bit of a stretch so they brought in another unrelated event [the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness - the basis for Lent] as the drum-roll to Easter on the liturgical calendar. Apart from being morally wrong, it's a little condescending to tell someone that their religion [the oldest monotheistic religion in the world] was a historical placeholder for a guy who would make it completely irrelevant by living as a Jew and dying as a blasphemer, even if you believe it.)

Anywho, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that they all use a lunar calendar (aka Jewish calendar) to calculate the date for Easter which means that "Christian Passover" will be on the same day...today! Passover began last night at sundown and although I was hanging out with a few people, I tried to sit down and think about what it means, thousands of years later. In reality, learning about Passover in 2007 is one of my favorite memories with my Rabbi. He told me the story of how the children of Israel were brought out of the land of Egypt through seemingly impossible logistical means, and how plagues claimed the lives of so many people who were seemingly innocent in the situation, and how the term "passover" unfairly gave rise to the belief that animal blood somehow communicated our will to an Angel who was bound to obey! (The blood was simply a token, I'm pretty sure the Angel of Death knows who to kill) He helped to completely demystify the faith for me and to look at the stories is a more responsible way. Now I love this story. What I now take from the story is the Messianic quality of clever Moses who took the terrible circumstances of the loss of life (from the 10th "plague") and turned it into the freedom of his people by convincing superstitious Pharaoh that the LORD was upset with him. Passover can be summed up in the idea of "Gettin' it while the gettin' is good". When the cries for deliverance were heard, haste was a condition of departure. Down to the meals that they ate, clothes they wore, and how much sleep they got, G-d established a plan for the Exodus and it did not include recess.

My favorite part would have to be that the Jews had to leave so quickly, that they couldn't wait for the bread to rise. This is the beginning of a tradition of Judaism that I learned as a young boy: unleavened bread. It's flat, it's nasty, it's dry, but it helps you remember. You can't eat yeast-less bread casually. You can't just pop it in your mouth and forget about it. "Why am I eating this" is a perfect segue into remembering the faithfulness of the One who brought you out of the land of Egypt. The commandment to eat unleavened bread comes alongside a command to get ready to leave before enjoying the meal. The point is not the bread but what we learn from it. On the cusp of opportunity, our command is to loose ourselves from the frills of modernity. The night before you leave the land of bondage is a time to eat with your running shoes on. When presented with a chance to realize the potential that you have been given, do it like its going out of style, because it is.

That's so Gay: A ballad of American Bigotry

2010-03-17T10:15:00.000-07:00

I don't expect to gain a lot of points with this one. I'll just say that right off the bat. That's mostly because everyone seems to think that they are the exception to the rule. It seems like every heterosexual person within my age range thinks that the whole world recognizes the fact that they "don't mean it like that" or that they "have a ton of gay friends" or that any of those things matter. We have been so infected by the hatred of the previous generation, that it doesn't even seem vile to us. Either our nostrils have habituated to the scent of the filthy conditions that we live in or we have convinced ourselves that we can lie down in the mud and come up clean. Either way, we are wrong.

Those words make my skin crawl every time I hear them. They remind me of pain and suffering, of bigotry and isolation, of fear and secrecy and isolation. Those words also remind me of my own shameful guilt. They remind me of my cousin who I shunned because of his sexual orientation and the cheap laughs that I got around the dinner table for using hateful slurs. I can't forget the way I used to use the word "gay" to mean "bad" or "uncool" and the way that probably affected people who looked up to me. I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry for the years I spent in the dark. I wish I could say that it wasn't my fault but it was. I wish it mattered whose fault it was, but it doesn't. Today my deeds hang in the balance and I am found wanting. I am guilty. I say that so that everyone knows where I'm coming from. I am not hurling down judgement from Olympus, or tallying up your deeds to determine if you will come back in the next life as a cow or a rat. I didn't claim to die for your sins or lead you out of the land of captivity. I am not your authority. I am Rahab, the harlot. I'm the thief on the cross ( or maybe more like Bernie Madoff teaching finance classes in prison for free).

In each instance, I carefully consider the situation before I speak. I really don't like to bring down people's generally ignorant, happy-go-lucky spirit but some things deserve defense, even if they are not able to defend themselves (Enter Nahshon: Public Defender). That's so gay. It makes me squirm in my seat, embarrassed for whoever just exposed their youthful ignorance or blatant hatred (you see, there are only two options). Let's break down exactly what we are saying. Based on context, this is only said when something negative happens. I think we can all agree to that with the obvious caveat that people also say it when they see a person whose sex and gender role do not align (e.g., an effeminate man or masculine woman). With that said, what other group's name is synonymous with general negativity? Could you say, "that's so Mexican" every time you wanted to express this idea? How about "that's so right-handed"? Are you saying that all gay people are uncool? Make no mistake: It doesn't matter what you meant. It is hurtful and it is wrong.

I heard some idiot on TV saying that we have changed the meaning of the word through adding it to common usage to mean uncool. This really got me upset. First of all, this guy was heterosexual (not "straight", he was heterosexual. Straight indicates that somehow gay=crooked...how does that work?). Not that I even had to tell you that he wasn't gay because a gay person probably wouldn't say something that ignorant to their own cause. The only thing that we do by using one word in two ways is to mentally connect the two definitions and therefore pass on our parents bigotry to our children without ever having to say it aloud. We have succeeded in finding completely new ways to fail. Congrats.

Yesterday, I had a conversation with a girl who wanted to know about the motivation for my conversion to Judaism (surprise, surprise...everyone thinks there must be some trauma if I don't want to be in the same club as them). But in considering the differences, I realized that while the quest for morality may be very real in Protestant Christianity, the actual accountability is a complete facade (I swear this will relate, just bear with me). The concept of a "personal relationship" with the non-human Creator of the universe is um...problematic for me because confession of sin is just reminiscing on old times if there is no one else in the room. (Serious issue, joking tone. I hope that isn't offensive. Hate mail can be directed to NahshonLandrum@gmail.com) I said that to say this: I have found that with the Jewish concept of corporate salvation (for lack of a better term) comes tangible accountability. Each of us has the ability to hold back the entire group with our actions and if there is enough wrongdoing going around, we may just wander in this desert until we all die.

Lessons from a funeral

2010-03-15T09:00:00.000-07:00

My family has seen so much death, lately. The natural temptation, at a time like this, is to look for a pattern. Our minds, like reporters, are trained to take the facts and produce the story. The problem is that with something as unfamiliar as death, we lack the metrics to even measure, let alone to describe the experience in any intelligent terms. We look for patterns that can identify possibilities and rule out those things that are impossible. The patterns we find through these deductive processes can bring those things which escape our limited understanding into the light. But what good can come from finding a pattern that you don't understand?

This reminds me of the opening monologue from No Country for Old Men. In the scene, Tommy Lee Jones is describing how the new wave of crime is (to him) just about the same as death is to most people. "...But I don't wanna push my chips forward, and go out and meet something I don't understand. [To do that] a man would have to put his soul at hazard. He'd have to say, 'OK, I'll be a part of this world'". This is the fearful feeling that we have toward death (and for the record, that movie is about the way we deal with death through the lens of our own experience) and we are right to fear. As those final hours approach and the loving, warm hugs and kisses of loved ones surround these physical shells but cannot shake the human mind from the final cold embrace still to come, we are changed by the fear of the dawn of the unknown and the end all of the familiar. It seems that we start to see differently; Focused. I have noticed that in life, when a person has a near-death experience, they seem to always walk away with an enlightened perspective and renewed purpose. It's like years of experience in a few short moments. If anyone must speak with any authority at a funeral, this is who I would elect. But not because they can offer any comfort for the pain or calm for the fear.

Standing at the entrance to that darkened house will offer no comfort concerning what lies ahead, only an appreciation of what is behind: Life. The intersection between a healthy body and lucid mind has no value except when compared with its own lack. And it is that comparison that leads us to fear. It is that comparison that conjures up these images of what will come in the hereafter. In the same movie's final scene, Tommy Lee Jones describes a dream he had about his father (who had previously passed away) and how he would see him again. He tells the story with all of the West Texan logic he can muster and his wife listens politely. As a matter of fact, they discuss how none of this will interest her (because our view of death, in the end, is very personal) and upon her agreement to listen, he agrees to share.

This, I believe, should be the template for a discussion about death among honest adults who care about one another. Two lost individuals discussing the only thing that we can actually grasp: Experience. At many points this weekend, the deep sense of sadness that I felt was not in response to losing a family member but at the way that she became the lead-in to a sales pitch. Billboards for headstones, special discounts on funeral procession police escorts, requests for repeat business by the mortuary, and a 3 alter-calls from three different organizations. Death is an industry and its agents are alive and well.

(It's even worse when multiple pitches are being hurled simultaneously from all directions like walking through the mall between the AT&T and Verizon cell phone kiosks. Sidebar: I DON'T NEED A NEW CELL PHONE! ARE YOU REALLY INTERRUPTING A CONVERSATION TO ASK IF I'D LIKE TO FINISH THE CONVERSATION ON ANOTHER NETWORK???) I am much more inclined to discuss cell phone plans (or death) with a close friend that I know cares about me and values my perspective enough to be polite and listen rather than to try to get me to sign up for a new plan that may or may not turn out to be better in my service area but will certainly earn them a commission.

I'm not here to have a discussion about which religion or cell phone plan will give you the highest number of minutes before the bill comes and I don't know how much of what we do here will rollover to the next plane of existence. What I do know is that none of us know the CEO of AT&T or that Verizon guy whose whole network travels with him. None of us have ever been to "headquarters" and come back to tell the story. All that we have are manuals; conflicting, man-made manuals. We can discuss the merits of each vs. the other at anytime. We may advertise our wares to passersby on any day. But today if we must debate or advertise, let's argue the merits of our loved ones and sell others on their goodness. Let's do it in the way that they would have wanted and in their honor instead of as a fearful reaction.

Me and my house

2010-03-10T06:41:00.000-08:00

In America, it seems we're spending more time discovering new ways to describe our superiority than maintaining it. And for the record: Yes, that is important. I didn't really notice at first, because sometimes the edits are kind of subtle. For instance, according to my good friends over at FoxNews, we are no longer the greatest country in the world. We are now the greatest country in the history of the world. This means, that we aren't just racing Russia to the moon or making sure we have more nukes than Iran, we're in competition with Roman Empire, the Aztecs, Egyptians, and of course "the Iraq"(ancient and otherwise). Doesn't that seem a little excessive?

Don't get me wrong: I love America. I'm such a die-hard patriot that it even annoys me sometimes. I take personal offense to people's lack of excitement about the greatness of this country when they can get super-jazzed about the Bachelor, or Idol, or (Dear Lord) LOST. I'm actually cooking up an idea now that would require some kind of international travel for everyone unless they are first generation citizens. If people only recognized how even their vocal disagreement to my ridiculous rule was a function of this country's greatness, they might be more inclined to take the pledge of allegiance more seriously.

That little rant aside, we do have a lot of work to do around here. LOTS. Like so much that maybe it's not such a great idea that we continue to spread our resources around the world like those parents who always have all of the neighborhood kids over for dinner. And this is a tough subject to tackle for a number of reasons, but at some point responsibility must come into play. I love relief efforts. I love the heart that it takes to leave the comfort of our warm beds and good food to go help someone in need. What I don't love is the way we funnel our money and time into places outside of our borders to the neglect of the impoverishment of our own. The reactions of even my peers watching infomercials for World Vision and seeing pictures after the devastating quake in Chile makes me think that they believe that we are somehow immune to poverty or destruction and heart-wrenching loss. Is it really our place to police Iraqi voting booths when our elected officials can't keep their mouths shut while our President talks? Should our resources go to rebuilding one of the many countries rocked by natural disaster in the past 5 years or should we focus on rebuilding a beautiful city in our country that was hit 5 years ago? I know that an injustice anywhere is an injustice everywhere; but if there is no justice here, can there be justice anywhere?

As oddly as this is going to sound on heels of all this discussion of justice and compassion, I think the Republicans are right. This healthcare debate has gone on for too long and gotten too ugly. It has been lazily mismanaged because of an Administration that naively assumed that people would work together just because they promised they would. (Also, what is the point of a majority if we're still gonna talk about bipartisanship?) But the part that we are forgetting in all of this is America. It's not about working together or separately though, is it? It's about people from the lower 9th ward in Louisiana being able to see a dentist. It's about getting laid off of your job and not having to go to Canada for the pills that make working a mere possibility. So yes, the Republicans are right. Let's scrap this whole thing. Let's start over with a new premise that everyone is covered and work the cost backwards from there. Why? Because this is the greatest country in the history of the world, right?

T.R.O.Y.

2010-03-09T06:00:00.000-08:00

If you know me, you know I like that "Bebop music you kids are into" (to use the words of my dad). And this morning, as I peck away at this keyboard in the wee hours of the morning, sipping on my Vanilla Chai with soy in the corner of my local starbucks, I'm blasting They Reminisce over You (T.R.O.Y.) by Pete Rock and CL Smooth. I guess blasting is a bit of a stretch. It's much louder than it should be considering that I have headphones but I can hear the "faint blaring" of horns as I return to my seat from the bathroom. Man, I love this song. And there is just so much reminiscing to do these days...

I'm learning to detach these nostalgic feelings from death though, through no effort of my own, I assure you. Moving away from the place where I grew up, watching others move away from me, the beginnings of new relationships that take people out of my life for a while, getting Dear John'd via email, and the approach of the first High School reunion invites have all played their part in teaching me that flowers are not reserved for funerals and reminiscence is not reserved for death. (Remember Big Brother by Kanye? Off of Graduation? I'm playing that now) "People never get the flowers, while they can still smell 'em"

You know who I'm reminiscing about, today? The Birthday Girl: Whitney Law. On this 9th morning in the month of March 2010, my friend is celebrating her life and beginning her 23rd year. People say that you never know which days are going to be the important ones (and its true, some of them REALLY sneak up on you!) But Whit, I'm giving you a heads up on this one: Today is BIG! Happy Birthday.

Whitney is the owner/operator of WhitneyDarling.com which houses her photographic galaxy. A galaxy of which, oddly enough (considering her shine), she is rarely the star. She has a near-sickening selflessness that would rather be the narrator than the woman in the spotlight; always helping, always feeling for someone else, always doing for those who cannot do for themselves. Well Whit, today is your day. (Go a little bit crazy, because 23 goes by quickly and all you end up with on the other side is more expectation and less praise for the same effort...wow that was depressing) Whit is a connector, too: She is the reason that I know Randi and the reason that eventually took Randi's job when she left it. She has a giant network of friends who love her as evidenced by the fact that I've known her for 4 and a half years and only probably know about an eighth of her friends. She charitably invests in me and a bunch of her other guy friends (also complete jerks, like myself) who have no concept of the quality of person who sits in their presence...Well, I have my theories. I love you, my short-haired, picture-taking, book-reading, coffee-sippin', boat-sanding, Drew-lovin' , God-fearing, deep-thinking, big-hearted friend.