Wednesday, July 11, 2012

NEW SH*T


All written 7/10/2012:





Okay. Hi. If you want to skip the below essay there are a bunch of straight-up jokes.You can skip the  paragraph below if you want. It's basically one big disclaimer. Please do read the essay though! And please excuse the crap grammar and the crap syntax in this post because... I think we can be non-dickholes and get past it, right? There might be typos too.





I decided I would write a memoir. Why not? Memoirs and stand-up are kind of my specialties (I think, not that anyone besides myself is thinking about it constantly, obviously) and I want to do a lot of those things... and a lot more of those things so I can get better at it...I think... and I'm a nervous, self-proclaimed smartypants with just-- generally-- a lot to say so here seems to be a place to do it, so I'm going to do it...ANYWAY, the thing below is half a memoir and half a journal entry basically. I don't know what to call it. I'm bad with being in categories when it comes to writing, I think. I don't say “I'm bad with categories”with pride. I say it with stunning shame because I've been doing this shit for four years minimum. Alright. Here is this thing, whatever the hell it is (I'm kinda proud of it; I feel like it's at least a little interesting and a notably strong piece of writing):





A Note on African-American Literature Class





      For the past half-year of my life I took an African American literature class at Purchase College where-- surprise, surprise-- we discussed race. Alright. Anyway. Now, to paint a picture half the class was white, half the class was black and about zero percent were exactly smartypants' with the exception of my friend Elizabeth and a couple of other ladies of all kinds of races in the room and about one guy.
      Few things can hold my attention, it should be noted. One moment in this class really held my attention, though, and I'll get to that in a second. Now-a-days, for reasons I'm still trying to sort out I can't focus on much of anything except walking and writing which I've been doing non-stop. Enough about me, though. Yuck.
      The moment that caught my attention in the aforementioned race discussion was when one student raised his hand and shared “Why can't we all just be colorblind? I am. I don't see any difference between white people and black people. Plus, I was bullied very badly and people would call me all kinds of names because I was Asian. I wish we could all be colorblind.” It doesn't matter what particular book this was in reference to, by the way, because all the books we read had the exact same themes really.
      I wanted to reply to that statement for about ten minutes but I didn't because at the time I didn't know how to do it a non-asshole way. It was a sensitive situation. That thought the dude shared had a sweetness to it, too. The first thing I wanted to reply with was “No two individuals are exactly the same and we all deserve love1 but there is such a thing as basic black culture and basic white culture in America. Some people subscribe to basic black culture and some people subscribe to basic white culture-- and skin color isn't relevant to what a person subscribes to-- but a number of people that are even big idiots can tell you there is a difference between basic black culture and basic white culture in America. So I feel like this kid volunteering in class was wrong about that. Plus, things that are new often make us feel uncomfortable (also, an idea by the brilliant Erich Fromm and a whole giant slew of famous, respected writers we all know) so this is the reason for non-color-blindness. Now, as if I have to say it I'm not an authority on modern race relations whatsoever but (and in all truthfulness I don't even pay full attention to the news; it's sad, truthfully) I am a person with intimate knowledge on the differences when it comes to stand-up comedy so I can even name one or two of them. A bigger part of basic black culture, more than white culture, when it comes to stand-up is honesty. Seriously. Seriously, seriously.
      At a black comedy club (or obviously a famously black comedy venue like The Apollo Theater) generally if you're not liked by an audience you'll be boo'd and if you're liked you'll be (in comedian Donnell Rawling's words) be accepted like “one of the [fucking] family.” That's honesty. At a primarily white comedy club (and yes, comedy clubs in America are quite racially segregated if not by venue then by nights meant for different races; this isn't something up for debate, it's just a fact of American life and not necessarily a malicious choice by either part) if you're not liked a white audience will eventually quietly talk over you to each other. If a comedian can get a white audience to sound like a black audience-- in terms of unsuppressed, on-display enjoyment-- for even a second they've done something miraculous. Pretty much all comedians will tell you this. Pete Holmes, Marc Maron, Bill Burr, and Big Jay Oakerson (all white comedians who work at all kinds of comedy clubs for decades) as well as Kevin Hart, Patrice O'Neale, Donnell Rawlings, Hannible Burress and more (all black comedians who, again, have worked at all kinds of comedy clubs for decades). At a black comedy club you'll find comedians talking about each other to each others faces saying “Oh, you? You're not even that funny. I'm going to hand your ass to you! ” White comedians have this exact same thing but as an inner monologue. That's exactly what it is, by the way. That's exactly how it stays. An inner monologue. I'll let you decide which one you prefer, obviously. The other thing, though, is who's to say one's better than the other, right?
      While these are in fact generalizations this info is from the top-notch comedians in the country (the ones mentioned just a second ago.) Seriously, man. They're authorities. They're also people who've seen shit. People who've been through shit. People that remained homeless for months and lived on a train and the New York City streets until minimal-success through comedy came and people who grew up poor and also people who are the least bitter, most down-to-earth people I've heard from in my life. People I aspire to be like. That's where the second topic I want to talk about comes in, in this piece: bitterness.
      The quote I initially shared not only has to do with race but does relate to the topic of bitterness. It has to do with race from the “colorblind[ness],” part and has to do with bitterness from the last sentence that-- once again-- reads: “I was bullied very badly and people would called me all kinds of names because I was Asian. I wish we could all be colorblind.” I'm trying to say that I think there was some bitterness on the volunteering students part and some bitterness on my part when the quote was first shared. I wasn't moved or felt like giving much sympathy when I heard the student share this. That means a number of things, I think: I'm not exceptionally in touch with my feelings however first and foremost in that moment I felt like I've had it worse than the student sharing. Regardless of whether it's true or not that's a bitter, unempathetic, selfish thought. I own up to that. But isn't there some bitterness and falseness and something self-aggrandizing to the statement “Why can't people be colorblind like me?” I think this is all food for thought.





1This is an idea I've read from the very well-respected and the psychologically-gifted-and-much-smarter-than-I'll-ever-be Erich Fromm.





The jokes below were all written 7/10/2012:





Jokes:





- What do you call a bunch of diseased adhesives? Band-AIDS.



- I don't know which I love more about the summer. The bugs or the sand. Really. I'm not sure... is it the raving swarm of mosquitoes all over your G-ddamn face... or is it the sand in orifices your forgot existed?



- I had to fill out a student loan-related form recently and it said that I had to pay off the loan unless I'm truly bankrupt or-- and I quote--... “You die.” These loan guys are brutal. If I have to not be alive for these guys to forgive me... I think that's a 10 reading on the jerk-o-meter.



- I'll often take a peppermint from a restaurant after a meal. Know why? I know what I want and I get it.





The jokes below were all written 7/9/2012:





An old joke but a good one:






- You know how some guys are so fat that when they look down they can't see a dick down there? I'm the opposite. I'm so skinny when I look down I see two.





New jokes:





- I have had one or two moments in my life where I hated myself a lot. A lot, a lot. I was competition for a lot of self-loathers. I mean, look out... most strippers.



- I used to get sent to the principal's office... of all my Sunday schools... a lot for misbehaving. I can name three times off the bat and, really, not one of these times was religious rebellion... I just liked drawing on things they didn't appreciate.



- I think everyone has irrational feelings sometimes, like how everyone's afraid of the dark when they're little. My irrational feeling? I'm so tough the dark should be afraid of me. You heard me, dark. You better hold onto your dick, lest I rip it off.



- My least favorite thing is actually a tie: between when my tonsils get real big and when I fart in the shower. Somehow it seems like the smell lingers for longer in there.

I don't know, man. I can't explain it. I ain't a fartologist.

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