Creative Endeavors

The ghosts of my past came to visit with me last night, interrupting my sleep and causing me discomfort.  I sure wish they would leave me alone, dreaming about those who have departed (the dead) is in my opinion, not a healthy thing for one to do, and I certainly did not enjoy it at all.

This morning, I get up and outta the bed, and I just know, that things are not going to go my way.  Why?  Sometimes life will just get me down, I get tired of getting kicked around, and I just want to check out of this maddening crowd.  I just want to come home to something nice, something quiet, something that has love connected to it.

Today I feel like I have painted myself into the corner again, a tired old feeling returns, and I embrace it because that is the way I am.  I have made better choices in my life, and I am capable of much more, but I run to this.  Like a rock rolling downhill, I just seem to gather up speed and roll on.

Watch your thoughts; they become words.  Watch your words; they become actions.  Watch your actions; they become habits.  Watch your habits; they become character.  Watch your character; for it becomes your destiny.

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RELATED: A DOGS LIFE

The other day, during a lull in the festivities (a six and one-half minute commercial during Dancin’ With The Stars … Someone shoot me please!) Cup Cake (the wife) looked at me and said, “Why do you spend all that time on the computer, writing all that stuff. No one pays you for it and no one seems to appreciate it.”

I just smiled and said, “Because Hon, if I had to do it for a living, it would not be much fun at all. And you are wrong, people (some of them anyway) appreciate it, it does some good. That is why I do it.”

This is a lot different than writing a Union Paper, I did that for a little over four years, and a times, it was a real headache, a pain the part of you that goes over the fence last. Hammering it out, proofing it, tweaking it, taking it out and often pimping it or prostituting it, praying over it, getting it to the printer on time … That part of my life is over. Which in all reality I suppose, is a good thing for the literary world in general and the public at large.

After it was shut down and put to bed, to speak, it left a void in my life. So I started doing this webpage thing. As Martha Stewart sez ……”It was backyard gardening or this.” Hah. That is the plain simple truth of the matter. You know me, “I always tell you the truth.” Often I will “embellish it a little” in order to “clarify” but most of the time, it is pretty factual and to the point. Well, it’s factual anyway.

The truth shall set you free is what the Bible will tell you.

The BBC is spending more than $1 million dollars to teach its staff the importance of telling their viewers the truth. Vin Ray, director of the BBC’s college of journalism, said the cost of taking 1,000 workers off the job for the two-hour training seminar would add at least another $1 million to the cost. Mark Thompson, the BBC’s director general, ordered the training after the broadcaster admitted a series of bogus broadcast, including made-up documentary, and stories about the Queen Mommy, Queen Elizabeth.

The truth it seems is kind of boring and at the same time, elusive. Meanwhile, back here at home:

Students at the University of Texas recently drew up an “honor code,” in which they pledged not to cheat or commit plagiarism, by copying an honor code in effect at Brigham Young University, which itself was copied from one at Clemson University. It appears that young people today have a different understanding of what in the way of ideas and words is property than can be taken without authorization.

Someone took some of my stuff, put their name on it, posted it and claimed it was theirs. That wasn’t nice. On top of that, one of them actually butchered it up so bad, it was unrecognizable as mine and that wasn’t nice either. Which now that I think of it, really isn’t all that bad of a deal.

Well, at least it has some value; after all, if it was worthless, they would not have stolen it.

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Hollywood is suffering thru all this, just like everyone else. My neighbor reports that there were only two people in the theater the other day when he and his wife went to see “88 Minutes” with Al Pacino (that might be the reason right there …. You want to meet my lil fren?). So perhaps it is time for another Block Buster of a movie, a Classic like Gone With The Wind or The Magnificent Seven … Something like that.

Coming to a theater near you this November!

Usammy Leon, American Hero!

The story of a poor impoverished black boy, his father was a Kenyan, Moslem or Muslim, he was not yo’ typical Southern Baptist Ya’ll. His mother, a white American woman from the plains of America, avowed Atheist who seldom prayed in a foxhole or served in the guard. She never cried when Old Yellar died, she wasn’t washed in the blood of the lamb, she never stood up for the Star Spangled Banner, and she wasn’t a John Wayne fan. (I am thinking Rosie Odonnel here?)

Yeah, that is about it. A proven block-buster in the making. Casting directors are now culling applications at the Church of Scientology in LA as we speak, searching for a suitable leading man. I wonder if Eddie Murphy is available. The poignant and incredible story of a small black chile, and his vision, his meteoritic rise to the top.

The incredible pageantry and beauty of the journey! His father deserts his mother when the child was very young and impressionable, forcing him to be a yellow-dog Democrat later on in life. A painful scar that he will not address even to this day.

The father in stereo-typical Afro-fashion, dumps the pregnant chick, leaves the crib, and moves back to Kenya or to a cellphone/internet site in Nigeria. His mother then marries an Indonesian Moslem Webpage Designer (Hey this is MY story!) and then takes the child to Jakarta where he attended a Avant-garde Moslem School and gun range. But as he was a lousy shot and his bomb making skills were marginal at best, she returned him to surf-board/Cabaña boy school in Hawaii.

There he began to learn to speak more smartly, goodlier than everyone else, and impressed powerful peoples. Not like the guy we currently have now.

Later on he attends the best schools in America. Living in a $1.4 million dollar house on the salary of a public servant, he strives to get by, some actually believe he has health care benefits. Briefly working as a civil rights activist in Chicago, he was instrumental in the release of several other Democrats on DNA evidence hearings.

Usammy Leon, he has never had a REAL JOB and now aspires to bag the ultimate affirmative action project in the country, located at the end of Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington D.C. (Hey Marion Barry did it over and over, why can’t this guy?)

Having minimal experience, he enters politics at the state level, quickly rises on his star, to the level of National politics’, although he has virtually no experience in either, just a good working vocabulary. Proudly boasts of his “African Heritage” but his only African connection seems to be a father who managed to impregnate a white girl and then abandon her, poste-haste. (never could figure that one out, born in the USA but you are Afro this and Afro that … Don’t write me any letters!)

In order to liven up things, he attends an afro-centric church that has a preacher that seems to hate Jews, blames America for all the worlds perceived faults, and then he repeatedly covers up for the pastor and the church … Which lately has proven to be a definite disadvantage, so he quickly reverses his “official position” and sells him out and no longer recognizes the man publicly.

The story of a man who … Won’t salute the flag, hates the national anthem, and wants the world to “buy him a coke” … Opening at a theater near you in November 2008 …… Don’t miss this one.

“Hello, is this Usammy Leon?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Usammy Leon, this is Shirley, you remember me? We met at the convention last month in Chicago. We went out and painted the town red, all night long, and you kept commenting on what a good sport I was. You remember Usammy Leon?”

“Uh yeah, I sure do. What’s up Shirley?”
“Well Usammy Baby, I just found out that I am pregnant and I am thinking about killing myself!”
“Say Shirley, you ARE a good sport, aren’t you?”

Having met my total word count for the day, I am now going to retire to the kitchen and stick my head in the oven. The only known and proven cure for … “ED.” (Electoral Dysfunction)

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