The World Without You

I just finished reading the book The World Without Us, by Alan Weisman, for the second time. It's not often that I read a new book twice, back to back, but this one needed it. It's one of the deepest books I've read in a long time, and it took me a couple readings to really understand where he was going. Once I did that, the book became even more incredible.

The premise of the book is to imagine a world without human life... not from the beginning of time, but from right now. Imagine if people somehow vanished from Earth. What would happen to the planet? That question is what Weisman answers throughout. Clearly, the book is entirely hypothesis... BUT the "answers" are based on Weisman's vast scientific background, as well as the research provided by others. In answering the question, he wonders about species of plants and animals that are extinct, close to extinct, and currently in perfect condition. He wonders about the decomposition of man-made materials and infrastructure. He takes into account global warming and even a belief in God/s. I HIGHLY recommend the book to anyone who is interested in books based on theory and research.

That said, after reading the book, I went off in a different direction. What would the world be like without ME? The answer is a pretty far reaching one, and I'll blog about that another time. But think about this for a minute...

What would the world be like without YOU?

Most of the time, people think about what they'd like to do with their lives, but not many people think about how their own personal stamp on the world would be felt if they no longer existed. So think for a minute... think about all of the people you have met; your job; your dreams; your kids, family, and friends; the things you have already done in your life...

If you were to just disappear tomorrow and life continued with the things you have done but without your presence and project that out... what would the world that you left be like? What would happen to all of the things listed above if you were no longer here? How would your personal stamp on the planet look tomorrow? 1-5 years from now? 10 years? 50-100 years? When thinking about this, try to have some fun with it!

Feel free to comment on this one. I'm still digesting this...

Oh yeah... for more information on the author and the book, click the link/s below.

http://www.worldwithoutus.com/index2.html

http://www.worldwithoutus.com/did_you_know.html

My Weird Co-Worker (When Cheating Isn't Cheating??)

So yesterday was the second day of my new job. I have two co-workers who talk a lot, which is good. However, one talks too much about things most people wouldn't talk about to someone they have known for just a couple hours.

For the sake of conversation, we'll call the co-workers Myra and MB. I'm sitting at my desk, and I hear Myra talking to MB. I'm not paying a bit of attention to the conversation... I'm off in my own world studying some finance documents. Then I hear Myra saying my name... once... then twice... I figured she didn't realize I was ignoring her, so I turned around after the third time. Then she tells me that she feels like she needs to tell me something, so I can understand conversations and I don't think she's a total hooch. (Yes, she said hooch. But MB says words like "anywhooski," so I'm numb to that sh*t already).

Myra continues and tells me that her husband has two kids, age 15 and 11, that live in Honduras. Lately, he has been expressing a strong desire to go back to Honduras. Because of this desire, along with his lack of interest in having any more kids, the two are going through an annullment (they're Catholic). Now this is where it gets weird.

She goes on to say that even though they are getting divorced, they are still really good friends that live together. So since they are good friends, she's seeing other people and currently has a boyfriend. Her husband doesn't know she has a boyfriend, and she is NEVER going to tell him that she has one. But she has one nonetheless.

So I was a little ummmm... surprised by this. And of course, I have questions. My first one is if she has a boyfriend, and she's living with her husband, what do they do when they wanna get down. But since I don't know her like that, I didn't ask her. But I did ask her if she thought it was cheating, and she said no. She said it's not cheating, because even though they live together and are still married, they aren't together. And because they aren't together, it's not cheating even if it's happening under his nose.

So I'm biting my tongue so hard it's starting to bleed. I stop biting and ask her a question. "Since you're seeing someone, it's okay for him to start doing his thing too, right?"

She looks me dead in the eye and says "If he started seeing someone else, I'd probably kill him."

I turned back to my computer and focused my attention elsewhere.

Yeah...

So basically, she acknowledged she's still in a relationship, but happily is involved with someone else. She took a lot of time to say why it's not cheating, but also said that she wouldn't tolerate that from her guy. And she's known me for two working days. And she told me that so that I wouldn't think she was a hooch when she was talking about a guy other than hubby.

Wow.

Maybe I'm old-fashioned at the ripe old age of 30. But....

If it takes you more than 3 minutes to put together a "logical" explanation of why it's not cheating, it's cheating.

If you feel like you have to hide some shit from your significant other that happened while you were with your significant other, it's cheating.

If you wouldn't allow your significant other to do the same sh*t you're doing, it's cheating.

Am I wrong on this? Does this girl have some serious issues, or am I too old-school?

On top of that, would you tell a co-worker that you don't know from a can of paint some sh*t like that??

Today was my third day at work, and I already know this is going to be interesting.

My 80s (Throwback)

There was a show that I saw on TV not too long ago that was talking about the music that defined a decade. It was definitely one of the more interesting shows, as music makes my world go around. However, I did notice something that didn't seem completely correct...

I was born in 1978. That means that I pretty much grew up in the 80s. The show said that the 80s were defined by Cindi Lauper, Madonna, The Bengals, the B-52s. Neon clothes and big hair defined the styles used in videos. All of it, to be sure, did define part of the 80s.

But not my 80s.

What do I mean?

I think I was meant to be an 80s rapper. That's what I mean.
See, while the show focused on the music that was playing in the burbs, my friends and I were wearing running suits and tennis shoes with no laces in them. When I was in elementary school, I used to hang with a bunch of dudes that called themselves the FMC (long story). Our "crew" had four people. Me, Duane, Cebo, and David. David used to carry a big platform. Cebo carried the boombox on his shoulder, and I carried the bag full of D batteries. Duane was the one with the jheri curl that could dance better than any of us. We'd walk up and down the street layin out the platform and trying to out-breakdance each other. And every now and then, other crews would want to battle. At the end of the day, we'd either win or lose, then learn or teach some new moves to the other crews. I really didn't have coordination to do any "choreography" but the moves I could do, no one could do it better. The backspin and the windmill. I could do them all day without throwing up. I could get my body to jump a foot off the ground in the middle of a spin. I was the KING of those moves.

The music that was coming out of our boombox? It sure as hell wasn't Peter Gabriel or The Police. Nothing against them. Try Cool J. Afrika Bambaata. Ice-T. Run DMC. Beastie Boys. As terrible as they may be, we spent most of our time copying the moves we saw on Krush Groove, Beat Street, and Breakin (and of course, Breakin 2: Electric Boogaloo). That's the music that defined us. That's the music that defined our generation. That's the music that isn't counted as part of the 80s generation - rather, it's seen as a subtext and categorized ONLY as old school rap.

I'll admit that I'm so much a part of the 80s rap scene, that I can't stop listening now. I mean I can go to a club and get my groove on to pretty much anything they play. But when I get back in my car, I'm popping in a Cool J or Run DMC CD. Seriously. That's the music I connect to. I'm okay with Jay Z. But I'm REALLY down with Grandmaster Flash, or Doug E Fresh. I don't care about Sean John clothes, but give me a Kangol and four finger ring and I'll rock that all day and night!

Now excuse me while I go outside with some Eric B and Rakim. Time to take some suckas to school.

Why I'm Worried About Barack

Sorry it's been a while since the last blog. Some things have been going on that have kept me off the pages. However, I do have a few thoughts, and I'm not sure if they are shared.

We're still high on Barack Obama being the presumptive nominee (it's the same title that McCain has right now). And with very good reason. He's the first black dude to get the spot. He's been a hell of a uniter since he hit the campaign trail a while ago. He brings a lot of energy and common sense that the administration has been lacking.

But I'm worried about him. Seriously.

My biggest concern is his safety. The country has a tendency to rid itself of our great black leaders. I don't think I even have to go into names here. Barack is now the face of the Democratic party, and, while he has a lot of support across the country, he has to battle against a bunch of people who would rather not see him there. Just like our other black leaders. I think we have come pretty d*mn far to get him his seat at the table, but his seat should come with a bulletproof vest and extra security guards too. That might seem a little dramatic, but we have never had anyone in this position. And when black leaders get close... so I'm worried.

I'm also worried that he gets to deal with the "first" syndrome. Here's what I mean by that. Say Obama gets elected as President. He'll officially be the first black President. Well, if you're the first black anything, you have to be more successful than just about everyone that came before you. In his case, he has to fix Iraq, the economy, education, and health care. He has to do that where a good portion of the administration and country may not be interested in supporting him. If he can do it, that will be great. He will have cleaned up one of the biggest messes in recent history. But if he can't, that would likely mean that no black person would get elected president for the next fifty years after that. Would you really want to carry weight that heavy? Is he up for that task? Or am I being overly dramatic again?

Is he really up for the job? Is the guy who was once defeated for a House of Representatives spot and a current rookie on Capitol Hill really up for the job?

Don't get me wrong. I am definitely supportive of him. But I'm worried.

The Witnesses At My Door

So Saturday was the first day of Memorial Day weekend. I had things to do, but I needed to relax as well. So I rolled out of bed later in the morning and threw on some sweats. First things first... laundry. I threw my stuff into a laundry basket and headed out the door (the laundry room for the apartment is on the opposite side of the complex and you have to go outside to get to it). When I opened my door, two people were standing in front of it, clearly startled and clearly getting ready to knock on my door. One was a tall older guy, and the other was a kid... probably about 10 years old or so. Both were dressed in suits. Both were holding briefcases and Bibles. One was holding copies of Watch Tower and Awake magazines. Jehovah's Witness was knocking at my door. What a way to start the day out.

Before I go further, I should make it clear that I grew up in a pretty Christian house. My dad was Episcopalian and my mom was Baptist (don't ask... I don't know how they got along for so long either). My dad didn't care for Witnesses when they knocked at the door... if anything, he'd start a lively debate and save the rest of the neighborhood from them by taking their time. My mom, however, was the one who would see them coming from a mile away and would pick them off from her bedroom window if she had a rifle. Depending on my mood, I could go either way. Anyway, the idea is that neither of them appreciated them and had different approaches to dealing with them.

So it's crystal clear that the kid is so nervous, he was about to sh*t his pants. Both guys smile at me, and the kid hands me a copy of Awake magazine. He said that he wants to read a quote from the Bible. He's fumbling through the Bible trying to find this verse. The old guy doesn't help him at all. He's just standing there. And I'm holding my laundry, trying to be patient. So after what seemed like an eternity, I put my laundry basket down and went to grab something in my living room. When I got back, he found his verse (2 Timothy 3 if you're interested). He read the verse. Then he said that since the last days may be coming, it would benefit me to read the magazine and the Bible.

Now I'm torn. On one hand, I think it's good for a person to have to cold-talk to people like that. It's a good way to learn how to market yourself and how to repress those nervous feelings. On the other hand, I just wanted him to get out of my d*mn face. I had things to do.

When he finished with what he was saying, I politely told the kid that I'm a person finding my way as well, and even though I didn't agree with what he was saying, I appreciated what he was doing. And since I appreciated what he was doing, I was going to give him one of my favorite bookmarks so he doesn't have to fumble to find his verse again. Then I told him that I had things to do, and thanks for stopping by.

The kid has this HUGE beaming smile, while the old guy was pissed. I don't know if he was mad that I could've corrupted the kid, or that I gave him something that the kid appreciated. Whatever. He needed to lighten up.

So the two walked off and I went to do laundry. While I was walking over there, I noticed that every stairwell and walkway through the complex had a couple people wearing identical suits and carrying identical briefcases and Bibles. It irritated me a little more, and I almost wanted to go and take my bookmark back. I didn't, but I wanted to. Maybe I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Who knows.

It was still a good weekend anyway. Back to the real world.

What Would You Say If Gas Were A Person?

Hey Gas... you think you're funny huh? You think $3.75 is funny? You're right... that's classic. Come here for a second. I have a joke you'll find hilarious...

You ready? Here goes...

What did the five fingers say to the face?

**SLAP!!!**

Yeah, punk! You need to learn some better jokes! Step to me with your chest puffed out again! You better come correct next time! When you see me, I know you see a m*thaf*cka from Iowa... but I'm straight Children of the Corn, homey! That's right! I'll chop your four foot tall *ss down to three feet! And I'll chop you so hard, your grandkids won't grow past it! Know your role, mayne! Know your role!

What's that? You think you been kind to me, just cuz people in England and China pay twice as much already? You know what I say to that?

**SLAP!!!**

I don't give a f*ck about other countries! This is America! And since we're in America, I have the right to slap the sh*t out of you, then claim not guilty by reason of insanity! You're driving me nuttier than a Snickers bar, so it would work! I will kick your *ss, and you will get your *ss stomped!

Now sit your *ss down, back the f*ck up, and realize that if you help us, we'll help you. You cut out your attitude you developed over the last few years, and we (Americans) will stop smackin the sh*t out of you. Deal?

**Straightening out shirt**

Now that I got that off my chest, I wonder how much it will cost to drive to Cali from Ohio...

Random Thoughts From Cartoon Watching

It was Saturday morning. I'm kickin it with my daughter. And we're watching Barbie Mariposa for the 1000th time. I'm telling you... it gets better every time I see it... but it had me thinking...

When I was little, I was a fan of G.I. Joe and Transformers. My favorite character was Roadblock. He was the big black guy that only spoke in rhyme. He carried an M2 machine gun over his shoulder and loved barbequeing. He looked and acted like Charles Barkly before Charles Barkley was Charles Barkley. Now that I think about it, his character could be a little offensive today... but that's not the point.

When it came to Transformers, my favorites were the Aerobots. Those were the good guy robot/air force airplanes. I think there were five of them, and they could combine to become one super-robot. Pretty cool stuff back in the day.

Watching Mariposa actually isn't much different from the cartoons I watched when I was a kid... outside of the pink horses and rainbows and flowers. In nearly every cartoon series, there is a good guy and a bad guy. Most of the time (at least to me), the bad guy is more fun to watch. And it's not just on cartoons... it's in movies too. They lead more interesting lives. They have cooler gadgets. And every now and then, a good guy would join with the bad guy... only to turn back later, but still. And at the end of every cartoon, the good guy always wins. Optimus Prime leads the Autobots to victory. G.I. Joe defeats Cobra every time. Bruce Leroy gives Sho Nuff the beatdown. Rocky takes Clubber Lang to school. Cartoons are already unrealistic as it is, but does life really work that way? Is it always so cut and dry when deciding who the good guys and bad guys are? Good people do bad things a lot, because they have to... because there is always a gray area... and since when does the good guy always win? In my experience, the bad guy has more fun, has cooler toys, gets more girls, and wins MOST of the time... cartoons would be pretty depressing if they mirrored real life...

Here's another random thought... watching Barbie movies makes me sick to my stomache. All of that girly stuff makes me feel like I should be on the couch eating Yoplait while I have my special time of the month. It's just not manly enough. But my daughter loves them... especially the Fairytopia movies. She has all of the fairies, and she pretends to recreate the movie with them. Since my daughter is multi-racial, I tried to find the black version of the Fairytopia characters... and they actually exist! But did you know that while the white female version of the dolls look like Heidi Klum, the black female version looks more like Cleopatra Jones? While the white male version looks like Brad Pitt, the black male version looks like Bryant Gumbel? Honestly, I'd rather play with Bryant Gumbel and Cleopatra Jones. Neither of them are Barbie-type supermodels, but I bet those dolls could make one hell of a sex scene. (Don't front... you know you made your Barbies hump when you were little. I had Snake Eyes humping Scarlet all the time when I played with GI Joes) My daughter would rather play with anything that looks like it was in the movie. Oh well... maybe I'll get them for myself.

Oh well... here's to Mariposa for the 1001st time.