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The fall of my hero

Growing up as a comic book junkie (or as much of a junkie as a boy living in Easter Africa could be), I habitually fantasized about the idea of heroes. Not simply individuals of unprecedented abilities who would lead humanity into an age of enlightenment and peace, but individuals who would actually inspire us to aspire for greatness. Having reread what I just wrote, I admit to how borderline delusional it sounds. Still though, we all need heroes.  These past several years have been murder on my heroes. Within this span of time I’ve discovered that individuals that I looked up and revered were in fact quite flawed and frankly criminally liable for their actions. While I won’t go into any details (primarily because it would be a moot point but also because given the celebrity status of these individuals, you probably already know them). While these damning revelations have done nothing but to piss me off to no end, I can’t help but remember a random quote....”teachers of morality,...

A cup of coffee...

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 A cup of coffee. That’s what my post graduate education boils down to. Vague and random though it may sound, it’s as apt a description as any. Of course, to fully grasp this, I would have to have to start from the beginning and from the beginning I shall.  This journey began 2 years ago, as a freshman at a prestigious Scandinavian university, where I sought to better mysef through education. In order to size up the enormity of this, we would have to go back even further. Said freshman had arrived upon the footsteps of said Scandinavian land with nothing but the clothes on his back. From these humble beginnings, he rose and grew, gaining knowledge along the way, seeking the means by which he could better himself for the eventual future where he would be at the mercy of the ever so cruel world.  I’ll forgo the aforementioned ambiguity. This is me, this my story. For years, I sought to continue my education, but for reasons that I shan’t get into, it wasn’t a viable opti...

To (be) Forgive(n)

 Does anyone remember Josh Hartnett? Whatever happened to him, I wonder? Sure, Hollywood being as fickle as it is, one would assume that his star all but fizzled and died, but that can’t be true for everyone? Anyways, I was channel-surfing, in the midst of nostalgia one night when I came across “40 days and 40 nights” and I just couldn’t help but peep that piece one more time. For the benefit of those impartial to cheesy flicks, it was the story of a man who attempts to recover from a bad break-up by first engaging in a series of unfulfilling one night stands and then abstaining from any form of sexual activity during lent, the 40 days and 40 nights leading up to Easter.   Why do I start off with that? Well, I suppose it was because I thought it was a clever sedge way into the topic of Easter and if it wasn’t….well hey, you swing and you miss. Anyways, Easter was here. Well, for some it was technically the week before, but for us of the orthodox faith, we celebrate a week lat...

Another year....

 Ah yes....... it's that time of year again, time where we break out our best clothes and booze, go out on the town and find someplace memorable to celebrate the closing hours, minutes and seconds of the fated year. It's time to look back on the year, assessing the major highs and lows, all in the vain attempt of figuring out where our lives went wrong (or right) and correct the course. It's time to grab our nearest and dearest and thank whatever deity we pray to for the 365 days given to us to spend with them.  This time of year is a crock of shit! In the words of Chris Rock, "THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID IT"!!!!  No no, this is not me indulging in another tirade of the inanities of the holidays due to some isolation-induced dementia nor is it some retrospective on the futility of planning.  This is acknowledgement, pure and simple.  New year is not supposed to be some grand promise made to ourselves and those around us. A resolution is not a proclamation of our ...

I'm no Saint!

When I was a kid, I was an avid viewer of “Martin”. It was a situational comedy or Sitcom starring comedian Martin Lawrence. Lawrence would pull an “Eddie-Murphy” (a term we used to describe a production of sorts where a key actor/actress played multiple roles), playing several characters on the show, requiring various degrees of make-up and props. The main character he played was Martin Payne, a radio DJ working for the fictional radio broadcast service W.Z.U.P., which he would usually work into his on-air segments by greeting listeners with “Whaddup, whaddup, WZZZZUUUUPPPPP!!!”  Now, one might wonder why I’m starting off with an ode to a random 90’s-era TV show, but there’s a reason. For those of you who know me and who read this, I’ve been on hiatus for a while. So, I use this as an off-ramp for this piece. So, in the spirit of the aforementioned, WZZZZZZUUUUPPPP!!!  Sup, folks. Hope all is well wherever you are or call home. I trust the holidays have been wonderful to y...

Death of a Comedian

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 They say always start off with a joke. It's comforting and it puts people at ease. Despite the nature of what I'm about to write, I can't help but revert to type. So......   Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life is harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world. Doctor says, "Treatment is simple. The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go see him. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears. Says, "But doctor... I am Pagliacci."   Funny, right? Yeah, I didn't think so either. Naturally, there is a reason I started off with this. Not due to it's obvious irony (not to mention the fact that it's a quote from the film "Watchmen" based on the semi-popular comic book which I found to be unappealing), but because it is an accurate depiction of and summation on the life and tragic death of one of the greatest comedians of all time.  Comedian Robin Williams died on August 11th of this year. Alt...

"I DID NOT CHOOSE TO BE A REFUGEE!"

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 I wasn't a very bright kid growing up. On some levels, I'm still that simple-minded child, going through life, head in the clouds, somewhat oblivious to the the state of affairs that our land/world is in. Admittedly, I'm aware of this, but it's not because of some over-abundance of apathy, nor am I incapable of understanding the way the world works. I mention this because of my initial difficulty of understanding a phrase I once heard, "walk a mile in another man's shoes". I had no idea what in the hell that meant, considering that very few people share the same shoe size and no two individuals could have the exact level of comfort with the same shoe. It wasn't until after a lengthy explanation (and a huge amount of personal patience on my fathers part) that I understood the phrase. And it is with that in mind that I open with this.  Having lived here in my current residence for over 4 years, I have been blessed to have met people who have been kind ...