I Think I Love My Life

F-ck You, (Don't) Pay Me

2011-12-22T06:56:00.000-08:00

I don't believe in ANY form of compensation tied to teacher performance while there is no effective method to evaluate student achievement for different learners. Or differentiate good teachers from those good at teaching to tests. (Then again, maybe I'm just naive and/or ignorant, not realizing that teaching to the test IS good teaching? I'm pretty sure it isn't, but I guess I could be wrong.) J, for example, is very smart. No test shows this. I induce achievement in J. There is no system in place which leaves me the energy, or provides me the resources, to prove it. Even if there was, those in charge would not value it in comparison to "standard assessment." So Mr. Collins, and his outside-the-box understanding of outside-the-box achievement would be on the outside looking in when it comes to compensating so-called "top-performing" teachers. No, I don't have the answer, but this isn't that kinda post anyway.

Kinda Crazy.

2011-11-29T15:41:00.000-08:00

Kinda crazy.
14 years ago a college rep told me only a miracle could get me into a decent school.
11 years ago I was flunking horribly outta my second school.
8 years ago I had no job and no prospects for a good future. I still kinda believed though. So did my wife.
5 years ago I was a loser 7th year undergrad who couldn't finish school and show something meaningful for my life. I got fired from my first meaningful job, almost went crazy and worse, and lived to make a record chronicling most of it, "The Petting Zoo" (www.starpower.bandcamp.com).
4 years ago I was very tired and prayed very hard for very long, and was given a new lens which enabled me to change jobs, and support things greater than myself.
3 years ago I received a fellowship and got married.
1 year ago I received my masters degree.
6 months ago I became a tenured teacher.
12 weeks ago I was mentoring and coaching bright, young teachers.
One hour ago I received an e-mail inviting me to train to join a team which will select and identify some of the best teaching candidates in NYC.
Making it outta my mother's 14 year old womb was an accomplishment.
Not freezing to death, getting arrested, or giving up were additional achievements.
I wasn't supposed to succeed so many times it isn't funny.
I couldn't see the light on many, many...many days.
I stood in front of many of you, on many occasions, even on stages, holding myself together with the last scraps of dignity I had left.
I kinda knew it would be ok though.
Although I allow myself to breathe a little now and say I succeeded, it's still really, really rough in other ways.
But I still kinda know it'll be ok.
I really hope you do too.
Because it will.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

Conscious Crusaders

2011-11-11T08:58:00.000-08:00

At this stage in life I realize it is supremely hypocritical to rally against all of those things one enjoys the spoils of each day. This doesn't at all mean we can't point out the tragic state of things like wars, big business, the family dynamic, race relations, etc. But if you're not with at least openly recognizing how uneven (euphemism) it is for you to play Conscious Crusader while constantly and purposely making decisions each day to BE about most of the things that are the opposite of what you TALK about, well then I'm not yet mature enough not to say don't say shit to me with your fake ass.

Everyone is contradictory. I understand that. But that's a lot different than being someone who works very hard to convince you that s/he is working hard to be a much better version of who s/he is. Those types ALWAYS hang together, by the way.

Life is complex, and although I will never accept the sad nature of the things we do to each other, the path to righteousness is tricky, to say the least, and I recognize that men and women wiser than me have spent lifetimes trying to reconcile this fact. The good and bad, all the grey areas, everything that makes us boo and cheer, exist in a web that becomes tangled and untangled at a rate which exceeds our understanding.

My belief is that each person should just figure out what his/her contribution should be, based on what s/he thinks are the best decisions. There is a judge, but I haven't met him/her/it, and I'm sure it's none of you. It sure isn't me.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

The Wave Files or Anti-Social Studies (Tech?{no})

2011-11-06T13:26:00.000-08:00

Ever used an Elmo? No, not the red-faced dude on the right, but the document camera and projection system I'm currently using in my class during lessons. It's a very useful tool of any information sharing trade. It's better than normal projectors educators are used to using because it can project anything under it's camera onto a wall. Meaning, I can teach any reading, writing or mathematical concept by projecting useful visuals, making an 8" by 11" piece of paper into a 5' by 8' picture in front of the classroom. I can manipulate this giant image in real-time. I can also project a website onto the wall and move through different webpages, enabling kids who learn better by processing images and sounds to stay engaged in a lesson. You wouldn't believe how many kids are acting up and out just because they have no way into what is being taught.

Elmos are kind of expensive but not as much as a lot of other things in a school. I say each class needs one, along with a couple of computers/printers (if there is ANY place that should have computers in every room, it's a school, no?) and a smartboard, something I've never had the opportunity to instruct with. (A video and audio recording set-up would be nice too, but that may be reaching just a bit.) If there is not commitment to getting this done on a macro level, then educators need to see what they can do for their individual classrooms. Anything less is shortchanging the students.

Our kids don't have these things and tech like this makes a HUGE difference in students accessing the nuances of any given lesson. I'm teaching w/no computer, no smartboard, no dependable copy machine or printer, few supplies, etc. I'm in it to win it, so I know how to work this situation. I'm not complaining (although all complaints from caring educators in all fields who are in similar situations are CERTAINLY valid) so much as expressing a bit of disappointment regarding what "is" in light of "what could be" if resources were distributed evenly.

Kids speak a futuristic language. I'm trying to access it the best I can while still showing them the importance of the lost arts we learned in school (dictionary skills, handwriting, times table memorization, etc.). But to be real, the instructors (teachers, administrators, curriculum developers, policy makers) need instructing more than the kids do if instruction is to really mean something nowadays. The responsible adults have to be open to the possibility of non-traditional ways of educating potentially being as useful as the generally accepted methods. I just had to endure an imperative stating that I am to rearrange my classroom because the administration doesn't understand the purpose of my non-traditional set-up. That conversation is for another blog though. We have to accept a new understanding of what education is in 2011. Time is of the essence and we can't waste it not being purposeful about everything we say to kids.

There will be a very clear and direct link between how we (and/or what we accepted regarding the way society chose to) educate our kids during this period of time, and the decline in the general quality of life we experience in the future. Our politicians we be even shallower, our law enforcement won't even understand the limits of it's brutality, the standards of our entertainment will be bottomless and our true thinkers will be alienated to degrees not seen in centuries. This struggle isn't really separated from the wall street, civil rights and other struggles when you really think about it.

Anyway man, just look after the kids a little bit. A little attention means everything to them. And it can often get them to work harder to close those gaps they are experiencing, you know, those "achievement deficits." If you've read this far, you're a wise person with something valuable to share with a kid. I appreciate you ahead of time for it.

Right, this is nothing you haven't heard before. That doesn't mean you shouldn't hear it again.

I don't care if you condemn or condone, I just hope that you have the capacity to consider.

-I'm StarPower aka the Unforgivable Ola, and I approve this message.

"I don't stand for much, but if I fall for THIS bullshit, then I don't deserve to have legs."

"So I round up the gypsies,
and instruct them to move.
I tell 'em something just hit me,
y'all know what we gotta do..."

"It's not that serious," were the last words I ever heard him/her say.

Since There's Obviously A Misunderstanding About the True Nature of "Tired"...

2011-10-22T12:25:00.001-07:00

...and since i was told that she is "tired of this," meaning she probably thinks she doesn't have the energy to read the reply to what I heard, I thought a good idea would be to put it into cyberspace where they say your words outlive you. Maybe she'll come across these words on a more energetic day. Even if she doesn't, it'll make me feel better to use this sounding board to express my thoughts with words instead of the open-handed slaps and closed-fists I'm trying not to resort to within the next couple of hours.

Her being too tired to be something resembling responsible, which should be an effort to offset just a fraction of all the nonsensery she's dispensed (which I usually contain, alone), is only irksome because I'm the one working 3 jobs all year to squeeze blood from a fucking stone. I'm the one who put a lot of that money into HER account at a certain time.

I wrote to her, "How about what the hell I feel about leaving my house to drive to Manhattan at times you wouldn't even wanna walk BLOCKS? How about me working extra jobs whenever I can for money I'll never see so if y'all have emergencies I can take care of it? U hav no idea what being tired is. Tired is taking care of 20 of someone else's kids and all their needs better than most people, with no resources, then doing it again after your workday shud b finished, then driving to another county as the sun goes down to do another impossible job you'll be underpaid for. Then driving to your house beaten down but not allowed to stop bc you're day isnt over yet. Then u have to use your last gas for you to drive to ANOTHER county to give your money to your family. That money was all you had til payday so u hav to choose to not drive your car to one of your jobs later in the week bc your pride won't let u ask anyone for gas money. So u make it up by doin a thankless extra day at your underpaid third job, only u wont see the money til the end of the month so what does it matter to your current situation? Tired is then finally getting home from all that while others are ending their nights and you wanna support someone you live with and what they r going thru, while u decide if u have anything left inside to prepare for the next day. Tired is taking care of your body to an obsessive degree in the middle of all of that bc u literally can't afford to physically break down, and when anything goes wrong, u never share to what degree bc no one asks, no one cares, and u kno too many people depend on u for u to be anything less than 90-100%. Tired is spending countless hours researching how to literally try to b superhuman through physical, mental and spiritual practices, you sometimes are ridiculed for, bc you feel u need to be 5 steps ahead of the best and you constantly fear everything being taken away from u bc most people ain't shit in this world. Tired is still being ok with all of that bc you know thats just your lot in life, and some have it worse, so fuck it. Then tired is having that type of dayat least 2 times a week, or something like it, for YEARS, while u are still young, and waking up each day hoping that that's actually the type of day you'll have bc guess what? The day I just described is an average to good day for you. And how do u think u sleep when u actually get to do such a thing? What do you think you dream about? And by "you" I mean "me." You don't wanna kno what my bad day is like. I pray to a God I struggle to have faith in that you don't have to feel what "tired" actually is."

Wow, I texted that. Tlol.

This is why I THINK I love my life.

Lost Rap Arts Vol. 1

2011-10-12T15:07:00.000-07:00

Seemed to be a lot of double-time rhyming "special effects" during the ciphers at the 2011 BET Hip-Hop Awards. Seemed like there was a memo stating the participants had to rap like (a poor man's) Twista at some point during their verses to show off their talents.

That's a skill, definitely, but once mastered you should say/do something ill with it to be considered a good writer/rapper. Being able to do it should be considered a basic (higher order, maybe) rap skill, and no props should be given by a critical ear to a rapper who just shows proficiency.

Choosing fresh words to spit slowly over a slow instrumental is becoming a lost art. BIG killed "Payback" w/a monstrous intro, good word choice and fluidity, among other things. His pace was measured and rhythmic, perfectly in the beat, not afraid of spaces, something that frightens many rappers. A lot of emcees go double time as an instant reaction to a slow beat because they are worried about having to be really discriminatory with word selection, volume, tone, spacing, rhythm, cadence, rhyme pattern. A tongue twisting flow allows one to get away with rhymes they couldn't pull off with a more traditional pace. (I dont care what anyone says, during an otherwise top-notch lyrical display, Eminem failed by saying "kick the ballistics" in 2011. I dont consider it ironic. And the soccer ball metaphor did nothing to give him a pass on that one. Sometimes rappers bring back old standbys like that on a throwback, semi-ironic level. I used "Mr. Sinister..." as late as 2006, but that was...well, theres no way for me to objectively use that as an example. Tangent done.)

Slowing the pace while sacrificing none of what a rapper is revered for is a great talent. Even multi-syllabic animals like Nas, Pun and pre-"Re-" Eminem (Re-Up, Relapse, Recovery) had the versatility to adjust flow of words for slower beats in songs like "One Time For Your Mind," "NY State of Mind," "Caribbean Connection" and "Way I Am."

There's not much wrong with the casual fan being entertained by what amounts to parlor tricks such as simple tongue-twisting, "lyrcial miracle-ry" such as the type Em mocked at the beginning of the BET Hip-Hop Awards cipher, or punchline overkill. Usually they are able to recognize higher level emceeing, even if they don't purchase it. But it's problematic when artists use these methods to display their skills in a room full of other artists or at a forum in which they're suppose to show how good they are. If they get away it, that means audience has lost the ability to identify good writing/rapping, or have never heard it to begin.

That's how standards drop.

It's up to those who can, and who know, to constantly meet and uphold a standard that's been unofficially agreed upon since hip-hop began.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

Untitled, Not Unimportant Part 2

2011-09-25T17:28:00.000-07:00

I'm relatively young and no political expert by any means, but it seems like more than any President I remember, even more than Bush, Barack Obama is made the face of the crises that happen during his term. An activist spirit is slowly returning to the common person in this nation, as it was in our country's past, very much due to being able to do so much with a little technology. I've alway heard people say it couldn't happen here bc poor and middle class are fed just enough to be placated, but that seems to be disappearing with so many struggling (even if the same people have more or less always struggled), but more importantly, with those who previously were struggling hitting the type of rough patches they thought was reserved for the underclass.

I also think that abuse by law enforcement will reach a critical mass kind of point within the next coupla decades, maybe sooner. We lack leaders, but the universe evens things out, I believe, some unifying force will do what people like King did. I don't know when of course, but the reason I wouldn't be surprised if it was during Barack's next term is that those who hated his election and don't want him there prioritize his demise over ANYTHING beneficial to the country. And, like any black man, he had very little leeway even with those who supported him initially. They turned on him for very little. I'm not a blind supporter of Obama, but I also can easily see that he's no worse than past presidents. Yet, I think his color causes people to turn on him with the same fervor they once supported him. So if he's re-elected, those with power who oppose him (who obviously wouldn't then be able to cost him another election) may go to lengths to destroy him in some way that we can't forsee. I don't think he'd be the focal point or even reason for something resembling revolution, but in this incredible historic powderkeg many don't even notice we are living in, I wouldn't be shocked if something concerning him is the match to ignite things.

Like I said, I'm nowhere near well-versed in politics; this is just something I see, think, feel.

I'm StarPower,and I approve this message.

Should Have vs. Should Of

2011-08-25T09:24:00.000-07:00

The reason why a lot of people make the mistake of writing "should of" instead of "should have," and think they can use "then" and "than" interchangeably is simple. We learn to write mostly from reading and the majority of our reading is now written by our peers and other non-professionals. Most of the time we're reading things written in Facebook and Twitter updates, blogs, text messages, website editorials and other forms of information/entertainment that are written by writers who are "writers" only because they are writing, and not because they have any training or even take the time to use any method of quality control. In about a decade we've made a switch that possibly won't be reversed.

Growing up, I didn't have the option of reading much writing from non-professionals. I read everything I could get my hands on for entertainment - New York, The New Yorker, Esquire, every newspaper, Donald Goines, GQ, union pamphlets, Guinness Books of World Records, legal documents, Vogue, Car & Driver, the bible, comic books, comic cards, basketball cards, closed captioning, cereal box nutrition information, so forth and so on. I pretty much read it all with the same level of intensity as well. Occasionally I'd get a poetry book filled with child poetry or just a really bad book that obviously wasn't edited by a professional. I'm not a great writer by any means, but I pretty much understand, and can adhere to, and practice certain conventions that seem almost lost today. It's ok to take certain shortcuts when writing informally (abbreviations, neologisms and the like), but that's not what's happening when someone writes "should of" instead of "should have." That's not having enough literacy experience with skilled writing.

Nowadays I spend a majority of my reading time looking at blogs and statuses and articles written by people who have fantastically informative and entertaining views to share, who also have little intention of making sure they are pretty decent when it comes to structure, grammar, continuity and/or tone. That's fine because their objective is the former, not the latter. And I know that they aren't professionals or even semi-trained writers (i.e. applying a good deal of what is learned through instruction) so I wouldn't use any aspects of their writing to inform mine. The problem is, everyone doesn't have, or even know to have a similar mindset. Writing is becoming a lost art beyond being a bestseller or just randomly typing out whatever opinions are in one's head. I learned a lot from school, but I learned even more about writing by reading all those different publications. I learned about different styles, how to turn and coin phrases, how to create moods and convey a particular voice. It's made me proficient, which used to be about average and is actually well about average these days.

I know what real, professional writing looks like. I consider myself a good songwriter and paper writer, but that's something different. Writing is a still (on the suface) a major subject in schools now, but all of the technical aspects are just skimmed over; it's as if there isn't enough time to teach and coach something that requires so much intimate experience with to master. So young people take what they are able to gather, add it to how they see other people write, and then figure out what they think is the correct way to write a lot of things. It's the blind leading the blind. Professional writing (school work or the occasional book) requires a much bigger investment than does a YouTube video or whatever the first 3 search results return for a topic one is interested in. Whenever we want to know about or be entertained with a specific subject, most of us have our go-to spots on the web. And those spots aren't usually places with meticulous editing and revision standards. Those spots are usually social networks, gossip sites and sites that show people talking about what we could read about.

(sb: I REALLY dislike watching video of something I can read about. Video interviews? Ugh. Words on a page allow you to interact with information in a way that a video can't.)

I know that standards in writing change over time and that "good" writing now might seem hackish to writers of the past, but quality is one thing, plain ol' proficiency is another. "Should of" in place of "should have" has little to do with quality or even intelligence, and more to do with "you should have just known better." But you don't. It wasn't that you were just incorrect and didn't learn the right thing to do; you thought you were correct because the person you emulates thought s/he was correct. It's a vicious cycle and it's almost not your fault. And if you've read this far into this blog post, that at least means that you are thinking about your habits on some level, which is positive. Then again, if you've read this particular post this long, you probably already know how to write. The informed will probably be entertained and the the uninformed are most likely already texting about the Kardashian wedding.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

We Are Fantastic People When...

2011-08-22T20:23:00.000-07:00

In a way, this blog post is evidence of the point I make within it. I typed a majority of this post sitting at a u-shaped table in the back of a classroom during the 3rd week of a 4 week summer job I obtained through nepotism. As I tapped out these thoughts on my digital notepad, I kept my feet up on a chair on the other side of the table, munched on blueberries, and made sure that all of my paperwork looked as substantial as it needed to look, in case someone felt like holding me accountable.

To be clear, I did my job. It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that I did my job well. I just learned how to cut corners early and precisely. It didn't take very long for me to learn who was satisfied with me doing what, thus figuring out how to fulfill a majority of my duties within a relatively short amount of time during the early part of the morning, in anticipation of the smokescreen I'd put up during the latter half. For instance, I'd write down most of the important comments I needed to by 10am (I was an observor/mentor), while leaving a few fields blank to focus on a couple of areas I could espouse on indefinintely if necessary. I still did my job, but instead of doing it really well all of the time, I learned that if I did it really well for a short amount of time, I could coast off of that and create the illusion of constant productivity while I wrote blogs, looked at Men's Health's website and texted nonsense to Terrence.

During the first week, I was the model employee - ultra-alert, all broad smiles, perfect posture and purposeful busyness. I only looked at my phone when I used the bathroom or was inside of a desolate staircase. I didn't want to give anyone a reason to think I'd be Slack Nicholson at my new gig. At the beginning of the second week, I started sending immature texts to Terrence every once and a while when things slowed down. (If YOUR best friend since childhood worked across the hall from you in such an environment, I'm pretty sure you'd behave similarly). By the end of the second week I was leaving my room to tell him what I could've texted him and having egg sandwiches delivered to me at my desk. By the third week, I wasn't even putting my phone away when my boss walked in (no disrespect, sometimes you just have to own the moment) and I contemplated working in a tanktop. During the final week...well, I'll get to that later.

My point is that we are fantastic people when we begin a new job, aren't we? We work hard all of the time and we don't write blog posts during work hours because it's much easier to live off of a good first impression than it is to have to prove yourself at some point in the future.

There are a few other situations in which we are much better people than we normally are, such as when...

...we are in the presence of authority. Your supervisor would never believe that you use the n-word at all, let alone as a noun, pronoun, verb, adjective, and adverb. ("Peace, my nigga. Yeah, niggas was actin real niggerish, b. Niggafied that whole party. I was 'bout to get my nigga on too, but then I was like, "damn, a nigga don't gotta act like a niggardly ALL the time tho. Feel me?!"). When a cop pulls you over, you're a King's English-speaking supporter of prohibition who doesn't even drink, let alone drink and drive, and you obey the speed limit faithfully. And let's not forget about all of the euphemismistic talk you use to avoid telling your mom that you're a slut ("I'm seein' a coupla people but really, I'm just waiting for the right one"), a dealer/hustler/hoodlum ("I'm just out there ma, trying to stay outta trouble and make a dollar"), or loser in general ("I was thinking about taking these adult learner classes at Leguizamo CC. They got a weekends and Jewish holidays programs that gets you your Masters in 17 months. I'm thinking of majoring in taxidermy, you know how I always liked dead animals").

...you are about to hav a kid. You are going to be a mommy and your assumption (or hope) is that all of the fighting and hours upon hours spent watching trashy tv instead of educating yourself, and all of the low-grade weed, Devil's Springs, E, nicotine, Percocet, and poisonous food you've ingested over the past decade will magically become a non-factor because you've decided to quit drinking everything but water, exercise and stretch a little each morning, and read a couple of books. For 6 months. Your goal of trying to right the ship in anticipation of your precious new passenger is admirable. And the good news is that the healing, preventive and defensive abilities of the human body can be remarkable. The bad news is that the good news won't apply to you, but your baby will be perfect proof of it as s/he survives your toxic womb, which is no small feat. All of your pre-parenthood activities combined with the life-draining experience of childbirth means that by the time you're child is ready to graduate kindergarten, you'll appear to have all of the age of a 50 year old, but none of the wisdom. At least you'll be a better person for it.

...you are leaving a job. Finishing strong is, of course, a good idea, whether you're an athlete, a student, or a rat race participant. Although first impressions determine how someone will treat you, last impressions can be an opportunity to affect how someone may remember you. I wrote the majority of this post during the third week of my month long gig, but i hadn't finished it by the end of the week. On Monday morning of the following week I considered finishing it off (I generally prefer blogging at work), but decided against it because it was to be my final week at the job. Like I said previously, I performed pretty well during the duration, but I always take the last few days, weeks or months (depending on how long I've been at the job or how much time will elapse between knowing I'll be leaving and the actual end date) to tighten up any loose ends. I knew I had to put the rest of this post on hold, so as not to leave my employers with any memories that may affect a good reference/recommendation or return engagement. Times are tough; all avenues need to remain open, all bridges should be crossable and unburned.

...we watch reality television. This is more of a relative thing. Compared to those basketball wives or those guidos, we are morally sound individuals who wouldn't be caught dead doing any of the fighting, fucking and faking that we love to hate to see them do. Truthfully, we all have friends/family EXACTLY like the characters on those reality shows. (And if they're our friends, there is a good chance that we're a little more like them than we think we are.) Even still, we make a distinction between ourselves and those types. We know what we wouldn't do in the same situation. Or so we assume. Judging reality television participants is much more satisfying than just crapping on what we hear second-hand about celebrities in gossip rags. These people are supposedly desperate for fame, something else we'd never be, and by extension, invite our scorn, ridicule and expressions of moral superiority. At least that's what they hope as their bank accounts skyrocket past even the level of your ethical high horse. (To paraphrase Jay-Z - "What would you rather be, underpaid or overHATED?").

When else are we much better people than we normally are? Share if you care...

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

P.S. There's also the phenomenon of the "great inner us," the version of us we think we are inside that actually isn't represented in the real world. We think we have great taste in music because we can cheekily groove to tinny, synthy, pop nothingness while acknowledging that nothing good has been made since Lauryn Hill was stealing classic music. We'll just chalk it all up to having "guilty pleasures" when in actuality, a great percentage of our music listening time is taken up by these guilty pleasures. If you only listen to stuff like Neutral Milk Hotel a fraction as much as you listen to stuff like LMFAO, then your taste isn't as good as you think it is. We do this when it comes to food (we think we are much healthier eaters than we really are), exercise (your routine is just that - an ineffective, comfortable, easy routine), relationships, etc, etc, etc.

"Blind Man Watches Throne" aka "Still Very Much On Vacation"

2011-08-09T06:10:00.000-07:00

School's return is imminent and I'm trying to take two vacations within 3 weeks. What do you think my odds of pulling this off will be?

You wouldn't believe the bullshit they do regarding our kids' state test scores, by the way. They give them these tests that test a fraction of what they are taught, then look at the scores, and if they did too well, they CHANGE how they are scored. Yes, the state cheats. When they need scores to look good, they make the tests easy and everyone does well. Election year, 2008, I was a great teacher, my sped kids overachieved, and I was a first year miracle worker. When they need to feel like the kids need to be challenged more, they cheat. Race-To-The-Top on that ass, charter schools on the come up, Obama wanting John Nashes and Marie Curies, 2010, I'm still great, but my kids' scores say that I'm missing something. (For the record, I was still selected for tenure in a year where only half were, as opposed to almost all in the past - that was still a bit political, but mostly based on the fact that I R-O-C-K). You KNOW I'm gonna have my say. One way or another. I've already began. There's no way I could be involved in a profession this intriguing, this interesting, this brutal, without rising to the occasion. I've been on it. It's probably gonna be similar in spirit to my man Gif's show.

Once the shoulders hurt, the workouts DRASTICALLY decrease in intensity. There is something I must've done last week that I hadn't done in weeks to make the pain return. Or maybe something I started doing weeks ago that I didn't do last week.

This Tar Heels Workout has been enlightening though. I replace the medicine ball with an 8 lb weight. Today, it's a li'l yoga stretching, 125 calories each, with no rest, on the elliptical, the bike, the treadmill and the stairclimber, and if I'm really gully, at the end I'll aim for at least 30 minutes of p90x. If I get about 60-80 grams of protein, 60-80 ounces of water, and some good high GI carbs, while consistently varying the fruits, veggies, legumes and meats, then I'm back on my game after falling off for 2, 3 days.

I always have a summer to-do list, but I never confine it just to summer. The ball keeps rolling. In many directions. If I'm not at place A, B, and C that you were used to seeing me at, trust me, I was probably at place D, E, and F, or L, M, and N exploring other avenues. To make different moves, you have to go in different directions. The world is huge and I barely know what's in my neighborhood! I only got about 100 more years to live, I got a lot to do, a lot to see, a lot to be.

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So now begins the trend of showing how open-minded & mature you are by refusing to shit on "Watch The Throne," or being called a hater who needs to get over oneself because you expected an album by two guys who call themselves the greatest more than ANYONE, and have the track record for validity of said claim, to actually be GREAT. I don't have the record, yet. But if I didn't think it'd be GREAT after THREE SINGLES, guess what? With confidence, I will assume it ain't great.

And Ye is the game's best rapper to me, while Jay is one of my 4 best/favorite ever. Doesn't mean they are infallible. And let me acknowledge that I'm a rapper. It's not easy (altho I assume its easier when you have damn near unlimited resources). I may not have made anything besides "The Petting Zoo" and a few monstrous singles that I feel compare favorably with the work of good or great famous rappers. I'm not even saying that they suck for making this record. They just ain't hit the mark this time. It's fine. We can acknowledge that two great artists made some above-average-at-best music this time. They've made great music before and probably will continue. May even have some great songs on the record, and I may keep it in heavy rotation because of a couple of songs I love (which has been the case with Jay's last couple of uneven albums). But it's ok to call it like you see it. Heads don't have to get emotional in response to other peoples' reactions. Either way though, it's still cool to see that we still feel a sense of guardianship over our art.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

P.S. - how interesting is the first picture, the one about the tax on the back-to-school items?

(D)reams (M)ade (V)acant

2011-08-04T07:42:00.000-07:00

Maybe DMV employees had dreams once upon a time,
and since they have them no longer,
they conspire to crush the dreams of others
when they could be inspiring those out in the world to explore new roads and pathways.
Just remember, DMV-goer and aspiring motorist,
that no matter how long you are stuck waiting to fulfill your dream of pursuing life on an open road,
the DMV employee will always be stuck at a permanent stop sign in life.

Hey, Rainbow-Head

2011-08-03T14:16:00.000-07:00

Life is love. Ok, rainbow-head. I concur. Wholeheartedly even. Would you disagree with me if I said that life is also hate and scorn and sympathy and rigor and expectations? My assumption is yes. Because, according to your facebook statuses and retweets, you only have the ability (and/or willingness) to recognize the silver linings, which makes me wonder just what in the hell you think those dark clouds are that usually precede them. Because you seem to think that anyone who is truly even-keeled, meaning they are pretty well-adjusted but have little problem expressing the general suckiness of things every so often, is a rainbow-killer.

It should be fairly obvious that there's no way to measure "good" unless there is "bad." The balance is necessary & I have WAY more of a problem with people who try to only acknowledge and express some shallow notion of "light" and "positivity" every second, than I do with those who don't go out of their way to hide their displeasures.

Some of you need to grow the heck up and realize that you can truly have a wonderful, beautiful life without saying unwise nonsense like "I don't let any negativity in" or always trying to seem like positive vibes are the only vibes you feel. We aren't made that way. The positive and the negative, the dark and the light, work together to warn us and guide us and inform us. Don't ignore what you don't like or act like it isn't/wasn't valuable. You don't have to become it, it just behooves you to understand it if you plan on learning from mistakes and improving the life of those you care about.

I've found that these people who speak in progressive new age mantras, very often talk (and type) it to a degree which they'll never live it (and makes one wish that they'd jump off of a high-arching rainbow :). They'll figure out the right places to go (and be seen), the right books to read and the right things to say in conversation, but as far as true enlightenment, as a result of AUTHENTIC circumspection (which is almost always too ugly of a process for them) goes, their commitment is as fleeting as a rainbow in the polluted city sky. Their fervor actually makes them a bit scary and makes you wonder what kind of horrible things they do (or have done) to need to constantly appear high on fairy-juice.

It's quite the trendy practice for people to get on Facebook and share either these weightless proclamations of personal progression ("my love is infinite, my soul and heart are without boundaries") or fool's gold-nuggets of wisdom ("your experiences help you to understand that your past is the path to your future"). These folks seem to mostly be young adults beginning to fully realize their generation x-ness, although nowadays, extended youthfulness, however good or bad that may be, encourages 30somethings to ignore the gift of wisdom that comes with age in favor of this Internet-ready (or Internet-driven) faux-sagacity. Popular topics seem to be love, religion, education, interpersonal relationships and simplicity over complexity, as they understand it ("I used to think I needed..., now I realize that all I need is...).

As far as youngsters go, I'm sure a narrow sense of understanding expressed as grand insight has occurred throughout the ages. As annoyed as I sound, I pretty much understand that that's just how we develop at that stage in life. The lengthening of the teeth, however, should promote a more measured look at the broad view of life. In other words, rainbows shouldn't crown the heads of those who are over 30.

Still, I got lots of love for you, rainbow-heads. And I love a positive person in general; contrary to the opinion of many who think they know me, I'm a very positive person. I would never have been able to lift myself from a self-made dungeon to accomplish many things I'm very proud of in the span of half-a-decade, without having a strong optimism and genuinely positive spirit. I loathe Debbie Downer and Miserable Melvin. I surround myself with positive people with good hearts and souls as well. They need not sound like Deepak Chopra or Iyanla Vanzant for me to believe that everyone's progress is important to them. We'll be there for each other through the dark and the light and we will reserve judgment until we see the big picture. Sunny days are great, but the best rainbows are created during rainy days. Don't ignore the clouds while you wait for the sun to come out; you could be missing a lot.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

You Are A Horrible Person When...

2011-07-08T15:04:00.000-07:00

"You are going to kill him, and then have sex with his wife (even if you are a straight woman) on top of his corpse, in his baby's nursery, if you ever see him."

On my way to work this morning, the police decided to drive very slowly in front of me on a one lane street. I can't see how it wasn't intentional. Maybe they were looking for someone. Maybe they were looking for something. Maybe their lives and souls are so empty, they needed to do that to feel amused and (falsely) powerful. As I approached the traffic signal, I said aloud to myself, "I bet they'll slow down even more so I can miss the green light, as they zoom right through the yellow." I then patted myself on the back in recognition of my superb prediction skills as I waited at the red light. I could have sped through the 1/2 second of yellow they left me with and technically not have been guilty of running a red light, but besides the fact that I wouldn't have been able to prove I didn't run a red, (plus, yellow does mean "slow down") they were obviously baiting me into driving through the yellow, even slowing down to look at me through their rearview before peeling off on the next block. My precarious drivers license situation and I didn't need the potential stress. Their actions didn't surprise or upset me as I glided across Prospect Avenue, on my way to mentor young teachers who would possibly kill for such an incident to be the most frustrating part of their days. Shout-out to perspective. The promise of true fulfillment at seeing these hardworking, frightened idealogues (I don't mean that to be condescending; they have to drink their cult's Kool-Aid to survive their impractically rigorous training) utilize knowledge I share with them each day through conversations, observation sheets, and email messages, helped me remain perched on a mountain that no duke (i.e. "Blue Devil," not "white," but "Blue Devils" - although I do recognize that white is their complimentary color while "black and blue" is more symbolic of their tactics and reputations) has the reach to move me from. This innner peace meant I didn't become the horrible person that cars turn people (or New Yorkers, at least) into. I didn't wish a pox on their livestock, a plague upon both their houses, or an impotence-inducing illness to visit their penises (alright I might've wished an impotence-inducing illness to visit their penises; you gotta admit, that was a pretty dickless move they pulled, and they don't deserve male genitals if they have to pull such stunts just to feel like they have a pair). This is significant because, although I consider myself to be quite a decent fellow (at least outwardly, towards 99.9 % of all animals, plants and fungi - ehhh, screw fungi, they don't treat my toes so well), I am usually a SON-OF-SIXTY-DOGS when I'm driving. As most of us are. Not when we're cruising down open highway with Genesis rocking the Alpine. No, I mean when we're running late and an Asian is driving too slow for us to switch lanes, and we're screaming, "Who the FUCK let you people outta the internment camps and gave you licenses?!!!" Right, you become Hitler. If Hitler had Phil Collins programmed as a favorite Pandora station. And you know what? Even though it's not alright, it kind of is. I bet I've been called all kinds of idiots and slaves and niggers and worse as I cut off Access-A-Rides and other ambulatory vehicles (I can't let them live man, they drive like they have one square wheel). And even though it's not really ok - with the windows up, looking like a pissed-off mime, it kind of is. We either let off that steam or it's Super Smash Bros. meets Crash Bandicoot, all day in these streets. When faced with a frustrating event as a motorist, we don't only become our worse selves. Oh no, that's too kind. Picture your worse self looking at someone and thinking, "Oh man, you're pretty offensive." Now put your head on that someone's body because that's who you become when you drive. A slow driver's a "fat fuck," someone who can't decide on a lane is a "non-driving bitch whose kids probably can't read on grade level," and the driver who cuts you off - Lord help the driver who cuts you off. You are going to kill him, and then have sex with his wife (even if you are a straight woman) on top of his corpse, in his baby's nursery if you ever see him. And even though that's not ok...well, it's not the only time that circumstances make you a WAY worse person than you actually are. You are also a horrible person when...

...you are horny. All of a sudden, you're a slavemaster, a sadist, a rapist, a whore and a Lolita/pedophile. And you like that too, don't you? Huh? Yeeeah, I thought so.

...you're away at college. Threesome? "Sure, I'm experimenting." Copious amounts of drugs and alcohol? "How do you think I ended up experimenting with threesomes?" Drug dealing, larceny and roofies? "Dude, lemme tell you about my bros at the frat..." The great thing is, no one holds the fact that you were a drug-peddling, alcoholic gang-rapist for 4 YEARS STRAIGHT against you as they send you a friend request on facebook a short time thereafter.

...you are asked a question more than once when you don't feel like answering. First reply: "I don't know." Second reply: "I don't know (inside you figure s/he didn't hear you the first time). Third reply: "I already said I don't know, sorry I can't help you." Fourth reply: "Please don't speak words to me. Act like the acquisition of language has not trickled down to your kind as a useful tool for communication because apparently, you don't deserve it. Just sit there, and let me anticipate your every desire for verbal interaction by observing the subtle changes in your Paleolithic brow before you begin to speak, you repetitive pre-hominid life form."

...you are at a bachelors/bachelorette party. Mums the word, but I hear Dancing Bear ain't as fake as it looks.

...you comment on any serious article online. Apparently ONLY KKK members comment on serious online articles. Either that, or so-called "regular" people become flagrant racists (or maybe they just have flagrantly racist fingers) once they see the words "Leave a comment." Inevitably, an article about Walmart's hiring practices will solicit the response of "Mexicans are killing all the white women" or "Obama's a terrorist. And a homosexual. He's a homosexual terrorist."

...you have the opportunity to have sex with a celebrity. First of all, I can tell you a couple of stories about chicks bowing (more like kneeling) to the fame. Like when my homeboy at CNN told me how a female colleague who'd hooked up with a popular on-air personality told him, "I don't usually give head, but I sucked his dick." Do you think it was because his dick was just so damn suckable? Of course not; his dick was so damn famous! It's not a one night stand when the person is famous, because a moment with a celebrity feels like a lifetime. Besides, when else will you get the chance to be the 1,435th nameless vagina he's entered?

...recycling seems to be, to ANY degree, harder than breathing. If you have to think, for even one microsecond, about where to dispose of the bottle of Hypnotiq that Li'l Zane THOUGHT he needed to get those drawers (yeah, that was back in '98 when he was famous and you were a whore) then FUCK THE EARTH, FUCK THE ENVIRONMENT, and FUCK THE FUTURE.

...you masturbate. Because you don't think about your partner (like I do :) when you masturbate. No, you think about your partner's co-worker being Jody's girlfriend's co-worker in "Baby Boy." The shady bitch who said to Jody, "It ain't even like that. I just think you cute...You better come get this pussy." And you think about...um, yeah, you're a despicable person when you pleasure yourself, don't deny it.

...you wake up every day. Little lies ("I like your hair" - no you don't!), minor cheating and stealing ("Damn, I need to find some dependents to claim on my taxes this year") are happening all the time, carried out all day, every day by the most decent among us. And even though that's not ok, you know what? It's kind of the reason almost all of are going to Hell. Not corny, proverbial Hell, as in, "This world is going to Hell in a handbasket; what, with all the lying, promiscuity, idol-worshipping, non-recycling bad drivers and homosexual terrorist Presidents!" No, I mean PROVERB-ial Hell, as in "Thou shalt beat him with the rod (hehe, too easy, i'll leave that alone), and shalt deliver his soul from Hell (Proverbs 23:14)" - if thou is willing to cut off his racist fingers to avoid eternal damnation.

What do you think? When do you think it's alright (or not alright at all) for us to be horrible people?

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

ConTEXT Clues Volume IV

2011-07-06T11:47:00.000-07:00

My ongoing interactive experiment in being anonymous and conspicuous at the same time.

This is the game - Go through your phone, and in my comment space, leave text messages you have that you find funny, random, weird, or just plain interesting. Sort of like a "best of texts" or "my favorite texts" thing (if you save any of them). It can be a sent or received message. You can also describe the context, if you feel moved to do so. No one knows it's you, so don't be afraid; I'll jump first:

we ballin' in the bronx tonight.
where?
that Mormon spot.
wasn't feelin' that spot before.
Kool, I'm wit you. Fuck Mormons.

they always gotta use the bathroom and when u don't let them they go on themselves. no pride.
and when they do piss themselves its not the nurses job to do anything about it

want a magnum?

They sell drinks in fishbowls. thats why i really wanna go.

do you know of an artist named Mysonne?...rapper...working his way up
yeah. i had his music when we were together. (in 1997)

He is the creepiest man i know. creepier than any high school teacher who tried to touch my thigh.

So...I hear (...) was screwing (...)... in the classroom
Whoa! Get out!
:) thought you would be entertained by that

what's wacker than 12 hour fathers day calls...13 hours
(...) asked me if i wished u happy fathers day. i was like, "what? oh yeah, this nigga is mad a dad. anyway, that kinda thing is lost on me. i'ma tell him tho."
i try not to be a dick...but mad people like "how's it feel your first father's day...im like "i been a father for like 10 minutes...feels like last sunday"

i already talked about one loft party, fuckin bitches at colleges and gettin banned from clubs, so don't overlap

just gettin' outta work, b, i lose. i'm the anti-sheen right now.

I say the fact that I made the toughest kid spend the last 10 minutes crying in window makes me Victor von Winburg.

Fuck him. Fuck you. Give my wife my check next time.

How hard is "9 piece" by Rick Ross? my answer is "very."

MJG, bitch I got 8 balls!

All loud. He beats up gay men.

wow I need to be taped, the way i surgically cut up kids who insult my intelligence

If i die tonight, remember me like James Caan/ In "Godfather" bitch, not "Elf" or "Brian's Song"

Is queer a word you are alright with?
Who do want to call queer?
Anyone who is queer if I feel like it. As long as they're alright with it.

there is a female prisoner named The Gooch on Beyond Scared Straight #imdying

werd, i gotta get some hgh.

Make sure u layer the ricotta right underneath pasta. Pasta-ricotta-meat(lots)-mozza

rella (maybe a lil sharp cheddar if u do that). Repeat. Then make sure the noodles are al dente. That means a bit undercooked so they are not soft, but rather a bit tough. Your lasagne was slamming, but that's the slight difference between yours and mommy's. Plus, some string beans or broccoli as the veggie would be ideal. Lastly, an Italian bread with butter and garlic would be a nice touch. I'm gonna cc Hilary on this bc she can ease some of the load on u. Be well.

Your turn...

Plankly Speaking...

2011-07-05T15:03:00.000-07:00

"Well look at pics I just loaded....pic of a dude fucking planking off of waterfall at El Yunque." - Nena

So, a guy from one part of the world had my wife take a flick of him planking on vacation in Puerto Rico, and she sent it to me in New York with her camera phone.

Plankly speaking, the trend of being photographed laying down on things, arms at sides, as straight as possible, probably exists as the easiest and clearest metaphor for how lazy, out of touch with each other, and self-centered we are. However, those qualities in and of themselves, are not sufficient for me to deride the trend. Not when we've had hundreds, if not thousands, of silly trends in the past such as pet rocks and swallowing goldfish before I was even born, sucking on pacifiers and sagging your pants below the curve of the ass which began during my youth, and initializing people's first names/abbreviating their last names, and unconditionally supporting blond, angry, homophobic artists who've made songs with Rihanna, which are trends adopted by a younger generation than the one I belong to. I don't find planking to be any dumber than any of the aforementioned trends. I find it to be just as dumb. But I have to admit that it is a bit more annoying, as each subsequent trend is nowadays, because of technology. Of course, the trends spread faster because of the Internet, camera phones, and the globalization of nonsensery.

So a guy from one part of the world had my wife take a flick of him planking on vacation in Puerto Rico, and she sent it to me in New York. (She politely declined his request to join him in an effort to earn himself more "points." Don't ask me who's keeping score.) That happens in the span of a couple of minutes. When I was kid, the only way for kids in Europe to know that we were sagging our jeans was for them to possibly see a video of the worst stereotype available doing it on an album cover or in a music video. That could take many months, if not years, to catch on. Those trends had long shelf lives. Now, a trend jumps the shark quicker than you can say "Mother-In-Laws Gone Wild."

(Dude, that's definitely my mom-in-law doing a very decent plank in a Puerto Rico hotel room.)

Trends always reach a critical point of annoyance, usually due to exposure, so it only makes sense that in a society where everything is always in everyone's face everywhere, a trend has the potential to irritate your sensibilites within only a few days of you discovering it (which is usually long after the people who made it trendy have decided it isn't anymore because people like you know about it/are doing it). And in our Fametopia, someone is already plotting to devalue a trend the SECOND they see it, while simultaneously using elements of it to start a similar, newer one. I guarantee you the second someone saw planking, they thought of how they could start a trend of being photographed sitting on odd things with perfect posture. Or some slutty girls will probably start a trend of having their picture taken kneeling in front of large pictures or statues in a position that makes them seem like they're performing fellatio (most trends nowadays inevitably lean towards "How can we make this as disgusting as possibly?" Dont believe me? Google "vajazzling" and "pejazzling.")

Thing is, in the past we felt like the silly trends were probably just some fun to be had on the side while we handled the important things in life. But at some point, some trends decided not to die and had subcultures form around them that become an important thing in life itself (social networking). That led to the shrinking importance of actual important things while the silly trends proliferated (few would be of importance singularly, but the trend of trends sprouting so quickly is where the importance lies), and the trends that stabilized and had cultures grow around them took up more of our time and energy than the real important things in our life did. That's where things become problematic, in my opinion. Practices such as social networking, trendy health/exercise routines and blogging have become more essential to people's lives than attention to the pursuit of the ideals they are borne of (i.e. meaningful communication, long-lasting holistic health and true individual self-expression). It's cool to type in your status for 376 of your friends to see, but wouldn't it be cooler to genuinely ask how someone is and receive an unconditioned response? You could even do both. However, the former seems to be replacing the latter. And we seem to have no problem with this as long as people who we consider tastemakers, in our personal lives and in the wider pop culture, validate our participation.

I'm not saying that trends such as people (who've been told they've said something worthy once in their lives deciding to share the 99% of their lives/thoughts that are unworthy of sharing) creating blogs or deciding to do p90x in droves can't contribute to the greater good. It can and it has, on many occasions. And I readily admit to hoping I can ease my soul through blogging or ordering a "muscle confusion" fitness DVD set. I also make sure that I use trends as "lifestyle supplements," while being attentive to making sure that the things that have been universally important throughout time dominate my thoughts and actions. It seems like a great majority of the trendsters participate in such trends in the shallowest of ways, leading to nothing much more than self-absorption and brain-wasting, while prioritizing them ahead of things that are extremely important, but un-trendy. Planking is not a threat to join the ranks of facebooking and cosmetic health practices, but some other dumb trend will start soon that has none of the redeeming values of social networking, but is powerful enough to go beyond the status of "trend" to take root as an important, affecting cultural practice (e.g. sexting), and it will push something important just a bit further down the priorities list. The solution to this problem might be to join what you can't beat. Maybe we should start the following trends:

Childrening

This is when you are photographed doing something that will make a child a better person. You could be showing the child how to tie a shoe, how to properly answer a phone or use chopsticks. Hell, it could even be YOUR child you "children" on.

T. Paining

No, this doesn't have anything to do with android singing or niggerishly ostentatious clothing and jewelry. In honor of Thomas Paine's historic and breathtakingly sensible ode to American freedom from British rule ("It was absurd for an island to rule a continent," "America was not a 'British nation;' it was composed of influences and peoples from all of Europe," "The distance between the two nations made governing the colonies from England unwieldy"), this trend would involve auto-tuning your brain towards performing, recognizing and sharing more common sense practices than what we normally see. You could snap flicks of people taking turns letting cars merge onto the highway, knowing what they want to eat BEFORE they get to the drive-thru windows they frequent or not being in the Tea Party.

Propriating

This would be displaying you and your friends having appropriate responses to different social situations - video of you giving up a seat for the elderly or listening to some of their advice, or pictures of you guys wearing a sufficient amount of cloth to school or a social event.

Reading
Participants can form large groups and swarm libraries and bookstores. Then they would each find a book. The ill part is what they would then do with the book - they'd read it. And then they'd get another one and do the same thing. And keep repeating that action. Kinda crazy, I know.

Fast-Food Fasting

To participate in this trend, you would need to somehow obtain a bag, cup, or container from a popular fast food chain. Then you'd make sure your picture is taken eating healthy food out of the fast food packaging - a veggie wrap in a Big Mac box or a homemade trail mix in a White Castle bag.

Along these lines, do you have any ideas for new trends? I'd love to hear.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

StarPoHydrates: Stain Removal Follow-Up

2011-07-04T10:23:00.000-07:00

StarPoHydrates: Stain Removal

2011-07-03T17:10:00.000-07:00

Floating Hope Rescued By Faith

2011-04-02T14:00:00.000-07:00

Wow, the owners of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory MADE money from the fire (and 140+ deaths) because they had a large insurance policy on the building, and were acquitted of all charges by an all-male jury after hiring the best lawyers (and worst people) money could buy at the time. Definitely hurts the heart. The city wouldn't allow a public funeral for the unclaimed bodies, fearing they would be symbols of martyrdom for organized labor. So the city buried them anonymously. The unions had a symbolic funeral procession, attended by over 100,000.

The city I work for still ain't shit.

As evidenced by the constant acquittal of crooked cops, yearly un-fare hikes, the hijacking of the Board of Education, parking traps and ticket quotas which fill it's coiffers, lack of even SEMI-affordable housing, etc, etc.

Second class citizenship is second class citizenship in any form. To those of you who say "it isn't about race" when a tragedy happens involving people of mostly one race - you are always mistaken. Sorely. However, you aren't wrong when you say "it's about class; economics." The Triangle fire was about class, economics. It was also about sex, gender. Women are still second class, let's never forget that. A child internalizes the differences in how men and women are treated very early. Boys and girls figure out who should be doing what. Mostly, men should be given power and women should be earning it, sadly. Disparities in class AND gender create a tragedy like the Triangle fire, just as disparities in class AND race create a tragedy like the response to Hurrican Katrina. And in both cases it wasn't about people choosing to put their faith in a higher power. Rather, the victims had no choice but to hope, as a condition of maintaining their livelihoods, that the authority (the factory owners and the federal government, respectively) would do right by them. Therein lies a problem, a misconception we must never let mislead us. "Hope" is rarely "Faith." Just like "Authority" isn't necessarily "Power." I've seen people hope that something they desired would come to fruition because they didn't want to have Faith. For whatever reason. Maybe they knew it wasn't worth their Faith, or they were too weak to have any. I've seen Authority only be able to yield Power in the presence of Force. I've seen authority so desperate for Love, it has been willing to give up it's Power, or so desperate for Power or Respect, it has sacrificed all love, not realizing Love is inherently powerful. "Respect for authority" or "hope that things will turn out well" are fleeting concepts too dependent on the whims of flawed humanity.

Faith in a higher power, however, is as stable as the spirit; without which I told a student it is impossible to reanimate a dead person. He said it makes sense you'd be able to, scientifically. I strongly disagreed until I realized that he wasn't HOPING bringing a dead person to life was possible. He has FAITH it could happen soon. Then I stopped debating him and said "Thats the spirit."

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

The Wave Files: Individualized Educator's Plan

2011-02-16T17:01:00.000-08:00

Gotta accommodate the special education teacher man. You gotta. I need modifications, accommodations and special criteria. Why? Because I have special needs that can't be addressed in a general setting. ANYONE who's been around me in public can tell you this is true. I have no behavior management issues in my classroom because I have no behavior. There isn't a kid I've taught who has had a deeper need for special services as long as I have. I need double time to complete any sort of paper work (so deadlines shouldn't apply to me). I can't go too long without some sort of break for stretching (so meetings longer than 15 minutes are out of the question). I learn through hands-on activities and experience (I'll make lots of mistakes; holding them against me will just stunt my growth as a professional). I have a short attention span (can't do too much lesson planning). I need a separate location to complete important tasks (that's why I avoid my grade-level partner when it's time for planning or grading assessments). I have slight speech issues (I speak "Raekwon" and "Ghostface" much of the time; if a translator isn't available I'll probably just avoid speaking altogether). I don't comprehend information if I gotta write it down (make me copies of everything). I'm a bit unorganized (I might lose those copies). In a nutshell, the new tenure requirements shouldn't apply to me. I should have modified tenure criteria. Basically, if I show up to work 90% of the time, can tolerate 50% of grade level colleagues and 25% of administration, maintain the appearance of a standard DOE classroom and sane demagoguery, and can successfully conceal the alcohol inside my prize draw for the whole school year my tenure should be a done deal, no?

Best Practices: The Best Way To (Consistently) Avoid Meetings (Without Consequences)

2011-02-14T15:54:00.000-08:00

The best way to consistently avoid meetings without consequences is to have never started attending them to begin with. This bit of advice will only be helpful to those of you who are about to start a new job because otherwise, you've probably already been attending soul-disintegrating gatherings of people who all feel like they're smarter than each other and too smart to have to be there, but whose attendance proves the opposite. But for those of you who haven't yet been to a meeting at your job, make sure it stays like that if you want to reserve the option to skip them whenever you feel like it. Commit yourself to being in the "I'll do it then say I didn't know" club. In most cases, professional and otherwise, you can get away with at least 2 instances of breaking rules and acting like you didn't know there were any before you're penalized. Most adults don't like to chastise other adults, so just explain, apologetically, how you didn't realize there was a meeting.

Don't say you didn't realize it was mandatory because that's like pledging your attendance at the next one. Don't say that you wish you would've made it or that you got the time/date mixed up because that's asking to be reminded and possibly escorted to the next one. Be apologetic without offering an excuse or explanation. You don't wanna be expected to attend at any point in the future; you want it to be a like a pleasant surprise visit when you pop in. Ask people what went on at the meeting but never ask someone who can hold you accountable for not being there. Ask someone who mindlessly conforms to everything; s/he will give you a good enough rundown for you to be up to snuff with whatever happened at the meeting. That way, your supervisor will probably just think you were at the meeting and they didn't see you there. Just make sure that you are on top of your shit because when you are you can get away with anything if you're committed to it. True, functional slacking takes 65% audacity, 25% smarts, and 10% effort. You're gonna have to work a little, which is fine because who can enjoy slacking off if they never have anything to do anyway, right? Make sure to walk busily, but not so quickly, past the first or second meeting. No one is gonna assume you're purposely skipping a meeting if you walk right past it. Just don't look like you're avoiding it. Look like you're trying to get something done, somethat that could have taken your mind off of the meeting. Look dedicated. You'll probably just look aloof and in this case, aloof is good. The aloof guy can be forgiven for skipping most meetings. Only make every tenth meeting or so. Then charm the shit outta everyone there when you go. Everyone loves a charming aloof fellow. You'll be able to skip any meeting you want. Yeah you'll be sacrificing your haul of "meeting food," but those munckins, sesame seed bagels, and that box o' Joe are why your co-workers look the way they do. They go to every meeting, and sit there with screwed up faces (remember, momma said if you keep making a face, it'll freeze that way) they stuff with low grade pastries. So they end up looking dumpy with a permanent "bitter meeting face." You don't want that, do you? I didn't think you did. The only meetings you should hold yourself to attending are the NA and AA meetings that teaching other people's children will eventually push you to needing to be at one day. Twelve steps to sobriety - good. One step towards the that data analysis lunch-and-learn - not so good at all.

The Wave Files or Anti-Social Studies

2011-02-14T08:56:00.000-08:00

Parents are let off the hook far too often as far as accountability for their kids’ behavioral and academic progress is concerned because they can use the fact that they have to work and take care of multiple children, in addition to whatever other situations they may have (marital/relationship issues, health problems, finances, etc.) that can make raising a child difficult, as an excuse and/or explanation for their child(ren) not succeeding academically or socially in school. We commend the parents who do the things that should be standard – show up to parent teacher conferences, help with homework every day, enforce some sort of effective discipline, things like that. We commend them. That’s ludicrous. That should be the minimum, not something parents should be applauded for. Effective parenting CERTAINLY deserves commendation. Parenting in and of itself doesn’t; it’s part of the deal we make when we decide to make children.

My thing is, it all works in reverse for the teacher. No one commends the teacher for doing the basics – teaching. And very few care to consider that TEACHING WELL should be something deserving of praise. We, of course, are not in it for the praise, because if we were, we’d be in the wrong profession. My point is that parents often get major love for doing the basics and don’t have to take accountability for what goes outside of what are perceived as basic parenting responsibilities (i.e. things that happen when they are with their kids), while teachers get little love for working extremely hard to do their jobs well and scorn when it seems like great students and people aren’t coming out of their classes. We are expected to work miracles because no one could be charged with a higher responsibility than to take care of children, which means taking care of the future. However, I think the fact that we are supposed to be primarily taking care of their MINDS is lost on most. To be honest, even though many teachers expect more of themselves, anything outside of a teacher doing his/her best to get a child to understand the material that is being taught is EXTRA. Yes, extra. It is a BONUS if I’m working on improving your child’s self-esteem or hygiene. I can NEVER care about ANYTHING outside of doing the best to get a child to understand the academic material and STILL be a GREAT TEACHER. The parent is the first teacher. We know you have a job, other children and all sorts of other things to deal with. You wear many hats. Guess what? So do we. And we are often expected to wear them all at the same time. I should NOT be penalized for failure to make up for what you did not teach effectively, did not teach at all, or stopped teaching to your child before and outside of him/her meeting me.

I know many of you parents are trying HARD. And succeeding. This isn’t about you vs. us. This is about you WITH us. I can do a little more of your job when you aren’t around and you can do a little more of mine when I’m not around. I’m sure we both understand that even though I say that “anything outside of a teacher doing his/her best to get a child to understand the material that is being taught is EXTRA,” I also have to understand that in this day and age that’s pretty much bullshit. Sure the hygiene and self-esteem is not in my job description, but it’s implied. Maybe because we get paid for teaching and you don’t get paid for parenting, people feel like we gotta grin and bear whatever comes our way. But then again, even though you don’t get paid, you have incentive to work harder as well – that kid is yours FOREVER. I may only have him/her for 10 months. I suffer for what negative things s/he may do during those 10 months, but a lack of effective parenting can cause you to suffer for far longer. Effective parenting ALWAYS involves teaching to a HIGH degree; effective teaching involves parenting to varying degrees. In many cases I can do my job just fine without having to parent your kid that much; you aren’t going to do very well, no matter how much you are commended by society, without teaching your kids effectively.

Don’t just drop your kid off with me, hope for the best, and then assume that picking him/her up and keeping his/her belly full and body clothed is sufficient. Teach the kid independence. Don’t send him/her to school unmedicated without telling me if you KNOW that it makes him/her a monster and will probably lead to you having to pick him/her up, causing you to leave your job and directing that anger towards me. It isn’t even a good idea to leave all of that in my hands. I can avoid that responsibility in MANY ways and NEVER be held accountable for it. In the end you will suffer a lot more for your lack of involvement and commitment to the teaching part of parenting. As it stands now, in most cases, I don’t really care much about what I’m doing to make the child a better person as long as s/he is putting up 3s and 4s. Because the government has made teaching all about those numbers and caring about anything outside of that is too exhausting (especially if you are teaching high needs students). And I only care about the 3s and 4s because it affects my money, my livelihood. And that’s absurd. Teacher data is a joke. But if you are responsible for the teaching portion of your job, freeing me to take care of your kid’s mind the best way I know how, I have NO ISSUES AT ALL with teacher data reports and President Obama leading the charge to shit on the jobs we are doing here. When the schools finally get privatized (Oh you aint know? Stay tuned for Apple Inc. South Bronx Writing Academy and General Motors School of Art and Design; I give it no later than 2020), and we realize after the initial english language arts and math scores honeyboon, that no sustained progress was achieved, what will we do? After blaming the teachers, while patronizing us with a commercial here or there, fails to put us on par with China and India, what are we gonna do then to avoid this nation fully becoming the idiocracy we’re headed to? Improve internally from the ground level (read: the home; which I realize will require a societal overhaul that reaches FAR BEYOND effective parenting and teaching) or just find a reason to bring some guns east and take what we need to sustain us for another coupla centuries?

Oh wait, the latter won’t work because India and China, who of course have HALF the world’s population, aren’t only smarter than us, they are beginning to own us economically and aren’t afraid of us militarily. So yeah, parents, at the very least, do your part to avoid the U.S. becoming a Chinese commonwealth. Because if my/your kids are failing English, they sure as hell aint gonna pass Chinese.

Right, this is nothing you haven't heard before. That doesn't mean you shouldn't hear it again.

I don't care if you condemn or condone, I just hope that you have the capacity to consider.

-The Unforgiving Ola

"I don't stand for much, but if I fall for THIS bullshit, then I don't deserve to have feet."

"So I round up the gypsies,
and instruct them to move.
I tell 'em something just hit me,
y'all know what we gotta do..."

"It's not that serious," were the last words I ever heard him/her say.

The Wave Files or Anti-Social Studies

2011-02-13T14:23:00.000-08:00

The Wave Files or Anti-Social Studies

The student assessment reports reveal NEARLY ALL of my students are FAILING MISERABLY in EVERY ASPECT of literacy. The current rallying cry is to tie such performance to the teacher. If they come to 3rd grade, some of them 10, 11 yrs old btw, not knowing how to read or use sight words (they, us, run, see), that 1 more than 2 is 3, or that a period HAS to fit SOMEWHERE among a page full of words, then it is LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE for their teacher to have most of them come within SNIFFING distance of their grade level standards. I don't think y'all hear me. This means they will NEVER catch up. It is LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE for 99.9% of our kids to succeed as long as our schooling system even REMOTELY resembles what it is now...

Even though I do care, I must say, fuck what I do, fuck a TFA, fuck a DOE, fuck a "Waiting For Superman," fuck a Cathy Black and a Bloomberg, fuck anyone's hatred of the aforementioned scumbags, NONE of it matters. Compulsory education CAN be effective as is for a SMALL FEW; for those in a minute minority (like my younger self) there is TONS to be learned in these classes. But schooling is WAY too young of an art and science in this country to think we have even begun to figure out the best way to START educating kids. For most, we have failed, we are failing, we will continue to fail. We have failed their parents and their parents; how many kids do you believe can succeed when failure is literally IN THEIR GENES? I don't mean they are dumb, bc they aren't; I mean they have NO CHANCE to succeed in THIS society. And there is nothing the school system, or President Obama, can do under our government as currently constituted. But that's the plan, isn't it? Remember, the first teacher, the most important and consistent one, is the parent. If the parent, due to any of the reasons that have damaged our communities, isn't there during those first 4-5 years to educate the child before school starts, then how in BLOODY HELL do you expect that child to make up a 4-5 year deficit? And oh yeah, depending on race and socio-economic factors, add anywhere from a few decades to a few hundred years on top of that deficit. So many of these kids are walking around with a larger deficit than anything our president faces. And the fact that our president's face looks like mine now makes VERY LITTLE difference.

Right, this is nothing you haven't heard before. That doesn't mean you shouldn't hear it again.

I don't care if you condemn or condone, I just hope that you have the capacity to consider.

P.S. I know for a fact there is an army out there, a wave of soldiers, people like my wife, and those I've studied with, who have selfless intentions and innovative ideas. The writer reports; I'm good at teaching but my heart isn't in it. I praise those whose hearts are. I'm gonna keep telling the story from the inside out.

"I don't stand for much, but if I fall for THIS bullshit, then I don't deserve to have feet."

"So I round up the gypsies,
and instruct them to move.
I tell 'em something just hit me,
y'all know what we gotta do..."

"It's not that serious," were the last words I ever heard him/her say.

Throwback Blog: No Child Left Behind (aka Ode To Wesley)

2011-01-27T03:57:00.000-08:00

I wrote this 5 years ago while working as an afterschool counselor. I performed it 3 years ago and although the crowd loved it, the show's headliner wanted my set cut because they thought it was inappropriate for an anti-youth violence fundraiser. (He probably also wanted me cut b/c I OWNED, as I recall.) Caught hell from his lesbian bandmate as well that night for saying "no homo" during this recitation. And could you believe that was the night I was introducing a KINDER, GENTLER, StarPo? Shout out to "revolutionary" artists who wanna limit your free speech when you're speech is a little too free for their tastes. Still killed and was invited back. This is for everyone, but mainly for my youth workers:

As the 8th period bell sounds off one half Bronx block away,
The fearless group leader approaches the lawless, chaotic world of afterschool activity
anticipating the pouts, the rolled eyes and the sucked teeth which accompany denied requests for an extra snack.
No, you may not have another juice;
No, you may not run down the hall and get me in trouble with my supervisor.
Sit down, you little fuck; no, you may not write on the board.
What you may do, is get me angry enough to tell you what every adult really thinks about you.
Hey Wesley, by 13 years old, you've built up enough self-esteem and security to withstand a little bit of constructive criticism, right?
Besides, it's not all your fault,
Given the name Wesley, you were destined to be the asshole most Wesley's are.
If I wasn't dependent on my extreme tolerance to pay my mortgage, I would tell you this to your pleasantly degenerate little face,
But seeing as how you aren't the most literate creature there Wesley,
I doubt you'd even be able to read my lips.
You and all the other miscreants who've made after-school the Devil's Playground-
Your whinin', your screamin', your beggin', your cursin', your stupidity,
never listening, always talking-
You test my will to be merciful.
No Child Left Behind my ass (pause)
Your poor, poor mother must curse all 12 gods of Mount Olympus every waking day that she bore a child like you, Wesley.
If children are indeed the future, the future must be one big cocksuckin' mistake.
When you're in that jail cell next year, hoping that they're just joshing when they say you might be tried as an adult,
Think back to when your president, George W. Bush, tried to save you-
Tried to save you, Wesley!-
by legislating the No Child Left Behind Act.
And then try to pinpoint the exact moment, this After School Group Leader said,
"Aw, f-ck him! Let's leave this child as far behind as possible."
Happy Trails, Wesley

Ability Identity Part 1: The Problem Of The Day Album Cover

2011-01-17T06:46:00.001-08:00

Knowing that you're a captive stimulation junkie who, like everyone else in the room, will probably tune out as soon as you hear the first educational buzzphrase ("differentiate," "educational leadership," etc.), how do you spice up another round of boring graduate class presentations? You show the class how you'd look selling drugs, having sex and beating someone up in school. All in the name of higher learning (Mercury's album of the same name available on iTunes, by the way), of course.

Charged with creating an "ability identity" project as a sort of preamble to a philosophical paper (which will be posted as the second part to this blog later today or tomorrow) one of my first graduate-level assignments 2 1/2 years back, I first had to wade in the vagueness of the assignment's requirements ("How has identity informed your perception of ability?" Or maybe it was "How has ability informed your sense of identity?" No one knew what the hell to do and it showed in many of the presentations; on the other hand, there were some pretty-looking collages and dioramas!) before deciding on the purest representation of both my ability and identity that I could think of: my music. But I wasn't gonna spit hot fire (Dylan, Dylan, Dylan, Dy...sorry, my New Years resolution should be "bring yourself back from the tangents in '11") in EDU 510. Plus, I had to hand something in. Sooo...what better symbol of "what I do determining who I am (or is it "who I am determining what I do?) than the brilliant album cover to my maniacal debut record (available on iTunes by the way - if you can stomach the nonsensery of the first 7 tracks, which peaks with "R.I.P. {Revolution In ya Pants} before the payoff awaits in the more focused second half of the record; just a li'l self-review for the folk) created by my homey Louis Peterson of LP Comic Inc? So I printed the analysis on an actual c.d. insert, then I watched my peers judge me ("Oh God, Rod {or "that guy who's always with Terrence - no, the other one"} is a rapper. Of course.") as I passed it around the class and improvised a bit. Here's what the rap sounded like:

This album cover has many versions of me representing different aspects of life that have lead to the creation of my identity. The classroom is my one constant, the lens through which I have viewed a great deal of my most important experiences. Along with the things I learned in my neighborhood, through my family and through the media, the things I learned in school formed the majority of my perception of my ability. Let's tour the classroom:

· I’m in the middle speaking through music, the language through which I have expressed myself most honestly, and used to gain confidence in my gift and curse, my ability to communicate.

· At front and right center are the drugs and violence which have figured prominently in my life, and in my family history. We had crack vials in the schoolyard and knew who dressed well because their siblings/parents sold drugs. I knew this was a norm for me and many classmates. My history is not one I look at through ethnicity, as much as I do through the socio-economic impact of the drugs, greed, and killing that, to me, defined the 1980s (in urban areas and beyond). We were told we were gifted; I never thought that meant I had the ability to escape, but rather to deal with these things better than others.

· The class is unsupervised, which is more a comment on my mother and other adults trusting me to do well in school b/c I was smart, and trusting my teachers with my education, but not looking deeply into all that was happening, including my sexual education (which I received almost exclusively in school, not from the teacher), and my identity of masculinity (since I had no father at home), represented by the sports and weightlifting. I had a lot of autonomy as a child b/c there was no father, and b/c I was thought to be capable of handling a lot of freedom. The lack of male guidance made me have to figure out on my own what my abilities should be as a male.

· In the corner I study surrounded by chaos, which has always been common for me, and is an ability I am proud of.

· *Religion did not really inform my identity growing up, although it does as an adult, which is why the rapping can be perceived as preaching also.

I'm interested to know how your perception of your abilities, as a child and as an adult, have influenced your development. Over/underachiever maybe? Still trying to reach your potential? Changing views on what it means to be "able" or to succeed in life? Let me know.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

Song Titles

2011-01-03T08:21:00.000-08:00

Boothe's Pretty Gun
Tragedian
We Are Legion
Condoms For Mind-Fucking
The Little Death
Hightened
Spoil The Rod
Like Fucking Jamie Lee Curtis When She Was In True Lies
Tears From A Cloud
CereBRO
Apex Predator
Starnivore
Shruggaluffagus
"Nor I," Said The Rod
Where Do We Bury The Survivors?

2010-12-25T03:49:00.001-08:00

Yo, the other day I was draining the lizard in the staff john, and didn't realize I never fully closed the door and it swung pretty wide open. There were people coming in and out of the suite where the bathroom is, and there I was with the door ajar playin' "I whip my COCK back and forth/I whip my COCK back and forth..."-type games. Had to hold my equipment in one hand while I used the other to close the door. Meaning, besides the fact that someone could've just been standing there compiling data about my genital situation, I gave them an EXTRA 5,6 seconds to be thorough with it. Who's better than me? I swear, I CRAWLED into this vacation, but I'm already back up on my feet.

So Who's Vince McMahon? Diddy, Of Course!

2010-12-24T05:47:00.000-08:00

They're both mega-rich egomaniacs who need to stick to running the show but enjoy BEING the show a bit too much.

It's funny, hip-hop has "heels (bad guys)," "faces (good guys)," & "tweeners" just like wrestling does.

Obvious heels:
50 Cent (former Event Heel who may not realize he's no longer champ-material, but has connections that keep him visible, if not relevant {Triple H of the past 3,4 years}), Dip Set (heel faction), Maino (midcard heel with talent who probably should peak where he's at {think X-Pac in his heyday}), Rick Ross (cool heel).

Obvious faces:
Drake (Cena of hip-hop; main event face who we won't admit we hate to love), Mos Def (doesn't need a belt {title} to prosper; can even leave for acting/singing and is a moreviable viable draw when he returns {think Chris Jericho}), Nelly (former main eventer), Common (Undertaker-type: old but can always perform & draw).

Tweeners:
Big Boi (unapologetic about heel tendencies but is generally for the good), Dead Prez (sometimes you gotta use heel tactics to achieve the greater goal {think the face Road Warriors}), Kanye West (really a face, but the audience wants to turn him {think Rock at end of this career}), Nas (doesn't care about the labels, just goes about his business {Randy Orton}).

Heels-turned-faces: Jay-Z (awesome heel in the past who's gotten a bit self-righteous in his older age {think Shawn Michaels}), Eminem (natural heel but has enjoyed his "facetime" in recent years), Li'l Wayne (should be a heel but they love him like a face so he hasn't a choice {think Stone Cold Steve Austin's face turn in late 90s}), Snoop Dogg, T.I. (CM Punk - great in either role; intriguing to see what an extended face turn would yield).

Faces-turned-heels: Soulja Boy (Miz all the way - gets MAJOR heat for how he's broken through but has exceeded expectations), Busta Rhymes (Booker T - decided that being loud and jacked-up, while deserving the rewards of today for past accomplishments, would be the gimmick in older age).

Roses

2010-12-20T17:24:00.001-08:00

My grade school memories go from reciting all of "Top Billin'" and typing "Keep Rising To The Top" into a Commodore 64 computer, to not trying hard enough to be good when I rapped at the assembly in 1987 or 1988. That still bothers me because I'm a great writer. Big Daddy Kane looms over anything hip-hop related up through "Prince Of Darkness" even though I was very much a Doug E., Kool G. Rap an PE kid as well. From the periphery I took in hulking portions of X-Clan, because the flow was INSANE and I ain't even know to call it "flow," and Main Source and MC Lyte and Sweet Tee and 3X Dope and whatever else. Hammer and BBD made a huge impression before I left 5th grade because I can still remember thinking "U Cant Touch This" was tailor-made for the running man and I owned that dance. Junior high was scarier for the Naughty, Cypress and Onyx than it was for the girls and new teachers. But for some reason I can't remember what bridged the Hammer with the "Slam." Black Sheep and Tribe maybe? UMCs? Def Jef? 2 Live Crew? Since I can't remember, I'll have to revisit this blog when my childtimes afford me a clearer picture.

All The Things I Said (In My Head)

2010-12-13T17:53:00.000-08:00

...today, in sequence.

In transit (before work): "The wheels on the bus go round and round muthafucka - act like it and move this bitch so I can have an easier time driving recklessly."

Arrival at work: "Good morning everyone but you two bitches."

Mid-morning: "Y'all niggas probably never cover y'all mouths when y'all cough because y'all want me to get sick and be absent. If I get real sick, I hope y'all get a HORRIBLE sub who leaves you ill-prepared for state exams. Y'all gettin' left back will serve your moms right for using my class as an unconditional babysitting service."

Lunchtime: "Can I come into your room and heat up my meat right quick?Ha! That was just a joke, I make because I bring lunch and you have a microwave in your room. I usually bring Lunchables anyway."

Early afternoon: "If you kids can't work independently, how the FUUUCK am I supposed to blog and facebook during work? Use the cocksucking GRAPHIC ORGANIZER and forget my name while I try to rediscover the wit I lost once I started working with y'all muthafuckas and I realized that subtlety and sarcasm is COMPLETELY lost on y'all niggas."

Dismissal: "I'm leavin' at EXACTLY leavin' time whether y'all prepared to leave or not. By the time y'all realize y'all nonsense during this 10 minutes means y'all didn't copy the homework and left y'all Naruto gloves in the closet, I'ma be wrist deep in Internet porn with the shades drawn already."

In transit (after work): "This highway is big enough for both of us but Ima act like it ain't because this Kid Rock cd got me feelin' like an entitled cracker. Make way for me and my restricted license."

At home (early evening): "We gon' go with the carrots and the beef jerky instead of the BBQ chips and the dark chocolate candy because I wanna see her perfectly when she tells me that my protein is doing both of us a lotta good."

Before workout: "Later I'ma make an obscene joke concerning carrots being good for the eyes and jerky and protein and stuff. Don't know if I'ma say it to someone or write it somewhere. Hope I pull it all together effectively."

During workout: "Gonna go shoot 50 jumpers and I hope none of these wiry-ass energetic young niggas don't come to the gym tryin' to get a run in. I'ma look at them like a standoffish old nigga as I leave if they do."

After workout: "20 minutes of weights, 25 minutes of treadmill, 30 minutes of toilet."

"I bet Nena had a long hard day. I hope she got food cooked when I get downstairs."

"I wonder if she gonna read that and take it as a joke."

"Maybe I should delete 'I Nena had a long hard day. I hope she got food cooked when I get downstairs.' I do hope she cooked though."

"Why do I write all this shit? Only 4 people read my blog anyway and 3 of them are in my head."

Anti-Social Netplay

2010-12-13T03:40:00.000-08:00

I'm not really seeing much socializing or networking on the social networks (it really should be called "netPLAY;" seems like we're mostly netplaying in netplaygrounds), but I guess no one could predict how we'd utilize them once we became comfortable. Could we really have predicted the memes and the apps and things like that? Facebook (and Twitter and YouTube, really) has established dominance and many of us are now devoting extreme amounts of time to the maintainenance of our avatars, in hopes that they influence what happens in real life more than...real life influences what happens in real life. But that's obvious. I'm the trillionth blogger to make that observation. I'm more interested in how this other world, this online refuge (for most people, it seems) is now a place where we've learned to indulge in a lot more than the bootycalls sponsored by Black Planet, the attempts at fleeting fame that come with MySpace participaton or the cutesy-fests that went on during the early years of AIM ("Ooh, let me show you how you can make it so that a pink kitten smiles and sings to you each time someone replies!").

Like I said, we may not be socializing much (then again, this is probably just the "new" socialization; I wonder when someone's gonna do a study to determine the best age to learn this form of socialization - "if kids don't become facebook proficient by 8, their chances of graduating from college decrease by 30%), and networking may still be more of a "who you know/fuck" thing than a "what you know/who you're online friends with" thing, but we are using the social networks for a specific purpose: as the best new testing/breeding ground for cynicism, sarcasm and criticism. The social networks make up an interrelated multiverse that survives on negative opinion (often thinly) disguised as informed, objective opinion. Now don't ge me wrong. I don't log on for the latter, most of the time. But so many people front like they have something substantial to say when really they're just "playing asshole." And that's the problem. There are actual assholes, who are GREAT at it, whose opinions are actually funny, informative, entertaining, insightful, incendiary. Then there are those who seem like they just discovered irony and think it's cool to largely express themselves through simple and often hurtful sarcasm. They think they sound funny and smart. They don't. Whereas at one time the art of sarcasm was largely reserved for sitcom housewives and those who learned it through literature and astute social observation, this new dumbed-down form is learned from TMZ, message boards and social network statuses. Insecure young people use it to try to separate themselves from their "less sophisticated" friends and end up just being meaner than they probably intended to be.

There should be an age restriction on sarcasm, cynicism, dark humor, self-deprecation and the like. Young people can't really handle these things. But my newsfeed ends up FULL of people making absurd comments who don't realize they are being absurd. They think they are cool and right. I say ridiculous shit; but that's what I do. I always have. I'm an asshole. If you think I'm cool, word. If not, word. But these "play assholes" are actually looking for positive reinforcement through negative "socializing." And I know I'm not right. And I'm not trying to hurt anyone. And I also have lots of positive thing to say. My goal isn't to say something negative, it's just that I have a very particular, assholish way of commenting on things I don't like sometimes. But the fact is, I'm one of the assholes many of the "play assholes" should leave the actual assholery to. If these folks see Jesus come down from the skies, they'll instantly think of something stupid and sarcastic to say in their facebook status before they think about how fucking cool it might be that Jesus appeared. But you know what's the worst about the "play assholes?" They have nothing compelling to say in real life. So getting into a verbal confrontation with someone like me is their worst nightmare. I don't talk much, but when I do, I'm clear, I'm purposeful and unapologetic. That was learned, and it comes across whether you see me online or if you see me on a line. My status in real life has very little to do with my facebook status.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

A Red Bull In A Sleepy Hollow China Shop

2010-12-08T16:51:00.000-08:00

Dear Julian Assange,

You definitely chose to do something meaningful with your life. I'm not yet wise enough to take a stance on whether your work is good or bad. Plus, unwritten history will have it's say and that will play a large part in making any sort of evaluation. Either way, Godspeed homey. Few people have known/will ever know the feeling of being public enemy #1 like you do.

Best,
StarPo

Moving on...

Yo, fuck a disclaimer. For example: if you're doing the number thing on Facebook (people send you a number in your inbox and you put the number in your status and make a comment about them - it seems like it can end up being anywhere from cute to creepy, and there might be as much opinion about the trend as there are people participating) - do it, its fun. Live. Don't explain your participation. There will always be people who'll shit on something trendy/popular bc they find value in being a contrarian. Shoutout to them too. Just be you. This world makes us feel like we have to give disclaimers for too much of the shit we say/do, when one is only necessary, like, 0.00001% the time. (Shoutout to people who give percentages for shit that is OBVIOUSLY nearly impossible to calculate). The rest of the time, fuck it man, get in touch with your child-like sense of impulsiveness and delight. As long as you don't mean anyone harm, "eff the world if they can't adjust/it's just as well." Life is too short to not be comfortable in every way possible, or at least give it a good shot. And your skin is the most important place to find comfort.

And while you're at it, fuck false modesty as well. You probably rock harder than anyone ever gives you credit for. I know I do, and I have for a long time. I get told it pretty often, but many people wait for someone to tell them. Why? Ok, well, because you don't wanna seem like a douche who's feeling him/herself. But recognition is always nice, and sometimes, proper recognition is necessary. You know, some perspective concerning how you just might be awesomer than you even get credit for. And a thorough helping of perspective may only be able to be dispensed from you. Eff who doesn't agree and pity those who are waiting for death to smell their roses. My nose works just fine NOW. As a matter of fact, I can buy my own roses and smell the hell outta them shits. So, in summation, fuck unnecessary (pretty much all) disclaimers, just do you, and fuck false mosdesty, it benefits no one. Least of all, you.

When the Knicks beat a real team, I just might grow wings.

If Raekwon has a song called "Piss In The Shark Tank," then someone needs to put that man's face on currency. Rae has been, is, and will always be, MONEY.

Rod: the opposite of stealthy and graceful.
Rod: unapologetically clumsy and deliberate.

I should probably wear draws when I workout, no?

I'm feeling the New Year's Eve pressure already. If you know of anything good, holla at me. Anything. Let me determine whether it's good or not actually. I just wanna have fun. I just wanna be warm inside and out when that ball drops. I put too much Halloween pressure on myself this year and ended up with a sucky favorite holiday.

Speaking of sucky favorites, my favorite student is now the student I hate most. Is that how people feel about me?
"Oh, for a second there I thought you were cool, funny and smart, but now I realize that you're weird, not in a good way, funny, not in a good way, and dumb, not in a smart way."

Apparently I identify lots with Dr. Manhattan, John Nash and Mr. Fox, and that's why I can't stop watching their movies. But really, I might be more Agent Van Alden than all of them. Yuck. Ugly truths are truths nonetheless. Time to shower and do the same thing I do every night - TRY TO TAKE OVER THE...tv. Y'all be easy.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

The Sweetest 16 Ever?

2010-11-28T08:33:00.001-08:00

A Song For You (Donny Hathaway)
Viva La Vida (Coldplay)
Before I Let Go (Maze feat. Frankie Beverly)
It's Too Late (Carole King)
The Message (Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five)
Wanna Be Starting Something (Michael Jackson)
American Pie (Don McLean)
Star Spangled Banner (Francis Scott Key)
A Change Gon' Come (Sam Cooke)
Between The Sheets (The Isley Brothers)
Nuthin' But A G Thang (Dr. Dre feat. Snoop Doggy Dogg)
Sexual Healing (Marvin Gaye)
Night Of The Living Baseheads (Public Enemy)
When Doves Cry (Prince)
Natural Woman (Aretha Franklin)
99 Problems (Jay Z)

2010-11-15T04:00:00.000-08:00

Up earl the pearls blogging it out this morning. I'm gonna assume this 6,7 minutes of stretching, 20 squat thrusts/push ups and 10 minutes of treadmill will be worth me rushing to work the morning of quality review (that's when big wigs come into your school to make sure you're doing a good job of miseducating the youth). My all around wellness regimen is decent but that's not good enough so I'll squeeze in a little more sweat whenever feasible.

Yo, there was an explosion at a Mexican resort? Gotta see which one because I love the one I stayed at and there are a few fantastic others where you get treated like a king for a subject's prices.

Shoutout to all my people ripping up Japan Music Week half a world away. I know the journey's ending now; waitin' on those stories.

I've already given up on the Knicks this season. That's a record. My prediction: Carmelo becomes the next Bernard King.

Just saw a report about airlines collecting billions in bag fees -pack light people! Better yet - don't pack at all. Go somewhere warm and keep it swimsuit and sandals all day!

Of COURSE they're gonna turn Stuyvesant Town into co-ops. You couldn't have believed they were gonna remain "affordable" rentals.

Ok, that workout might've...damn, this dude puts on cologne and hair gel to work out? Sorry, tangent...that workout might've done what I needed it to do. Y'all have a good one; I'ma try to have a better one.

2010-11-14T00:12:00.000-08:00

Even at 2:30 in the fucking morning I gotta worry about dogs running up on me in this fucking building. Who the fuck walks their dog at 2:30 am?! Anyway...I called it, Pacquiao-Margarito going the distance. That's why I knew my money was charity once I drew the 3rd round in the pool. Oh well, hope the chick who had 12 enjoys and appreciates my $10 as much as I would've.

Took the local streets home because y'all know I'm still driving with that suspended license. I'll be loving my life a lot less if I get stopped by highway patrol. I love the solitude of late night driving, especially when the weather gets cold - all I got is the late night d.j. and made up stories in my head about whoever is walking the streets at the time to focus on.

Gonna sleep 'til about 10am and then do a GTL (gym-teaching plans-laundry). Gotta develop a science unit. Or steal one from the internet. Wish me good hunting. Y'all be easy.

Teachers Gone Wild!

2010-11-12T15:13:00.000-08:00

Daaamn, you see those teachers caught on tape at a union event talkin' MAD sh-t about how untouchable tenure makes us? They allegedly even used the n-word? They f-ckin' the game up! The game is to be sold, not told maaaan. They know they're already trying to shut down the whole tenure game, don't give 'em ammo! Crazy thing is though, the superintendent wanted to take away her tenure and decided not to b/c it's a long and expensive process! Do you know that song "This time baby, I'll be bulleeeeeetproof?" Yeah man.

My Golden Mean

2010-11-12T14:30:00.000-08:00

When your highs cause you to have to wipe the cloud out of your eyes in the morning just as frequently as the lows make you have to look up to see the soles of everyone else's feet, does something need to change? I guess at some point I decided the answer was "yes." As a stimulation junkie, I've always craved ridiculous highs and I usually came off of them and fell into depressing lows. The golden mean isn't a place that's halfway in between, but it's that (my) desired medium. It's not a state of boring content but more like a continuous exhilaration that isn't dependent on any outside source. It just takes me stopping more often. That was the problem. My life was too complicated and I rarely took a breather. So I've simplified things. Work, leisure, romance, diet, family, everything. Now I have more opportunities to reflect and remember, like, "That's right. I remain awesome and so does lots of other shit. Good. Now, what's next?"

I no longer have to act like a rogue nation and test the limits of my powers by doing something spectacularly destructive. Plus, my highs were really never enough. And insecurity played way too big a role in my self-image. I never lacked self-esteem, not for a moment, but I now think I made myself lonely by manipulating everyone. I know I'm phenomenal at being bad. Time to see how good I can be at being good. Yeah, that's it.

Putting away kid things,
StarPower

(Re)Producer/Rapper

2010-11-11T15:22:00.000-08:00

Looking down at smartphones is going to cause us to evolve as a species with craned necks unless we find a way to project all of our info in front of us like cyborgs. That's the obvious though, right? I wonder what having these machines in our pockets that soak up all kinds of waves is doing to our reproductive organs? Whatevs. Mine seem to be doing great. I won't give it anymore thought until I start growing a third testicle or something.

Speaking of sex drive, mine has always been at least average. Probably borders on above normal. But my lack of facial hair, pretty much unchanged voice since 13 and tendency to not be into your typical "guy things" (although I'm a sports fanatic and I love to drive fast, I'm not handy, not particularly violent or competitive and I have a much easier time relating to women than men) sometimes makes me think that I don't have a typical male's balance of testosterone to estrogen. (Y'all know - "All them drugs my momma did/made me turn out kinda weird"). I'm straight as 6p.m. (a.m. as well) but my alpha-ness has never manifested itself through fighting and fucking the way I see other niggas do it. Maybe they win more if they take a little more from their mothers and a little less from...what they think their fathers would do if they were around? I don't know. I did miss a ton of development by not having a dad around. Now I'm daddy to at least 20-40 kids every year. The irony isn't lost on me at all.

My students this year are getting me a bit stoked about having children for the first time. Know what though? I fear I'll be less of a teacher once I have children of my own. Silly right? They say it's the opposite, but I guess I feel that way because I put all of my paternal energy into my students. I give them enough tough love to carry home and take to sleep. Not sure if I'll have any to spare once I became a pop.

Yo, IHOP is ALWAYS crowded. But I understand because you eat like a champ for cheap there. But damn. Don't try to go there after church lets out.

Yoooo, this shit was HARD. Gotta get this goin' in the whip. Only for the gangstas.
"See I was raised on red beans the size of some bullets!"

Dude. I'm mad broke right now. Probably a good thing though because I've been doing well as far as not partying too hard lately (we'll ignore that night at People a coupla weeks ago). I'm kinda itchin' to throw down a bit though. Holla at me if you wanna finance my latest relapse.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

Free Wee..er...Who's It Now? Oh Yeah - Free T.I.!

2010-11-10T17:51:00.000-08:00

S.O.T.T. (Sign Of The Times):

Li'l Wayne purchased 48 bottles of champagne (at $700 a pop, that's almost $34,000 in bubbly) to celebrate his release. No, not his album release ("I Am Not A Human" is doing quite well by the way; good job avoiding the Taylor Swift steamroller Weezy! - http://m.billboard.com/news/taylor-swift-sells-over-1-million-in-record-1004125158.story). He's celebrating his prison release. Read all about it. http://m.billboard.com/news/billboard-bits-metallica-honors-armed-forces-1004125702.story

This time change will apparently be used to my advantage because it's 5:48 and I'm up blogging. Hmmm. Wonder what else I can utilize this extra hour for while my body is still fooled. It'll only be fooled for another month, I presume. One particular year though, I never adjusted to the change and became permanently re-energized by an extra hour of productivity. That was weird. Was also a blessing. I think I'll use it to alternate between stepping up my health regimen and creative pursuits. Of course treadmill blogging, my favorite new ANYTHING is my ultimate multitasking thrill enabling me to feel like one-and-a-half men when I'm done. This extra hour is as good as extra money because I need the extra hour to keep up with my extra money! I got 3 gigs right now! Teaching during the day, tutoring in Westchester two days a week, and Saturday school at the wife's school. Three jobs at three locations, how you love that? It's cool by me. I'm still broke right now but I'll be 6:00 (meaning straight; sorry I'm old school) in another coupla months. And I'm about to add a fourth - running a Friday music club. Unknockable hustle.

"Yeah, I always find somethin' wrong
You been puttin' up with my shit just way too long
I'm so gifted at findin' what I don't like the most"

Word.

And don't assume she'll be ready to acquiese when you're ready to quit wildin' out. We don't all grow up at the same rate. If you can't work that as an excuse, that'll be your answer as to why you're living out the lyrics to "Song Cry."

Those bitches on "Bad Girls Club" are some scandalous tricks but they are generally much better looking (and less clothed) than the girls from any of the VH1 dating shows.

Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you cared.

Ever seen "Rehab?" It comes on E! or Bravo or one of those other channels that I wouldn't watch otherwise. It's the best trashy reality tv, I swear. It's about the Rehab pool party at the Hard Rock hotel in Vegas. Now, lemme tell you. I've been. And that "no drugs" shit they're talking about is bullSHIT. There were 'roided up muthafuckas doin' lines off of their index fingers right next to us at the bar. People openly asking us (as 3 of maybe 10 blacks out of a crowd of maybe 500, possibly MUCH more) if we had any drugs to sell. Anyway, the place is a douchefest and the show captures this perfectly.

Fuck a driver who speeds up alongside of me when s/he sees me signal to cross lanes.

Sometimes I think, "If I didn't care about getting fat, I SWEAR I'd eat the kind of nonsense they advertise on television." But I wouldn't. When the slices of bread in a sandwich are being replaced with pieces of chicken, I feel that much better about my dietary habits. How can one stay sexy while being a fervent supporter of the Colonel? Beats me.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

Your Favorite Monster

2010-11-03T16:17:00.000-07:00

Yaaaaaoooooo!

This was good; I'm sorry, you probably didn't think I did this:

This is GREAT, and you probably don't think I do this either:

I keep feeling like FloRida is the new Nelly. But Nelly got a huge hit out right now, so never count him out. That dude knows how to sell music! Some artists are just like that. That's not a commentary on his musical talents but his commercial song-crafting talents. I definitely respect it though.

Yo I SWEARRRRR Jay, you might seem like you're slowin' down a bit (aint we all in some ways?), but you're still speakin' my TRUTH man!

"LOVE - I don't get enough of it..." - (from Kanye West's "Monster")

Took you at least 15 years to reveal on record that that's your Achilles heel. And I fuckin' FEEL you, dude. Aint no easy shit to admit to yourself. Respect and admiration is cool, great even, but it aint love, trust me. Then they wonder why you're their favorite monster.

Damn, that might gotta be the album title Scott - "Your Favorite Monster"

I been speakin' that Kanye "Runaway" shit for a coupla years now to whoever has claimed to love me. Nigga, my moms loves me. My li'l sister and my grandmother love me. I know what love is, and I know when it's lost. I've lost a lot of love these past few years. And I haven't found much of it. So I tell them to scram. And instead of "running away as fast as they can," they plant themselves right in the pockets of the sweatpants I wear when I go to the strip club. They'd rather be close to the source I guess. They probably think that that's where my id lies. But my id aint located at my genitals. My id is an evanescent energy spread out through all of the dimensions of my monstrosity. It's within my many states of consciousness. And you can barely grasp it. Any(effin')way...

People goin' crazy about Nicki spittin' subliminals on this joint, and she does black out, but the story to me here is Em's return to form. As good as he's been recently, there is an element I hear in his verse here that I haven't heard from him in maybe a decade. The way he's gettin' into those nuances is...know what? Reminds me of one of his very best joints. This...

That was when he was the world's favorite monster. Now he's a lot more FAVORITE and way less MONSTER. Shit, good for him.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

"There Will Be No Glory in Your Sacrifice"

2010-11-02T18:03:00.000-07:00

"We are being crucified by a process that is turning blacks into a permanent underclass here, Frank. A permanent underclass!" - Joe Clark ("Lean On Me")

Today I seemed like somewhat of a rebel antihero among my colleagues for exposing the emperor as naked. Here's to hoping my principal realized that I wasn't coming at her, but rather the system who's (whose? whom? *shrugs*) bidding she does. I called bullshit on the whole pedagogy and spoke for those who were wise enough to stay shut. I haven't learned such restraint yet. Some think I dug a whole for myself but applauded my audacity. I didn't do it for them. Wasn't for the admiration or even for myself and my commitment to candor. It was for the kids. They deserve better. And the fact that the new core standards, which will take effect in 2014, don't meet my standards, needed to be acknowledged. I received the type of reception usually reserved for those who commit themselves to acts of bravery that end up numbering their remaining days in low digits.

"You are so right, Mr. Collins. You speak for all of us. And I'm so glad you're too inexperienced to know that you just dug your own hole."

But y'all know that could further from the truth! Remember yesterday's blog about me weighing the consequences against my desires ahead of time? Yeah. I'm actually plenty experienced.

I'm liking this staff though. Got to really know some of the guys a little better today, which is cool because there are about 8 here, which is quite a few in elementary. And it seems they all just wanna be left alone to work hard and say/do inappropriate shit on occasion. My kinda fellas. The women are cool as well for the most part. They seem to appreciate what I bring to the place and I appreciate their willingness to always help out my clueless ass. They're already slowly gaining on the staff from my last gig for my affections, although I don't see any staff topping the old CCA crew I worked with. I can't even say I got a huge problem with administration beyond the fact that I'm just a wannabe anti-establishment type, lol. They treat me pretty good but fuckery is inherent to their positions so even though I'm cute, I'm not cute enough to avoid them trying to bend me over every once and a while. Still I remain rigid, lol.

This blog comes to you one full day into my latest juice fast. My first one was really successful - 9 days of heaven and hell. My second one was disastrous - not worth a description. I have simple expectations for this one. At least 3 days before I switch over to raw foods for another 4-5 days. I don't know, I'm making it up as I go. A series of events yesterday compelled me to jump right in because a greater clarity will be needed to move through into my next phase. There's talk of mini-StarPowers and possible moves outta state and other shit I ain't ready for that need lots of processing and action planning. I need to mentally detox. Better, faster, stronger, smarter. Kick a lot of ass. A lot of it. "'Cause niggas need to be got." Word to "Ironman" album skits. Alright I'm goin' somewhere else with it now. Lemme hop off this treadmill (my favorite new blogging place) and go pick out something pretty to wear tomorrow. Might have to smooth things over with the boss lady *winkwink.edu* Y'all be easy.

I'm StarPower and I approve this message.

Reflective Practitioner

2010-11-01T18:59:00.000-07:00

The best gift I give myself at this time of year (my birthday) is the gift of reflection. I can never understand a person who doesn't reflect, a person who doesn't look at him/herself for the purpose of analysis and evaluation. How could one not be inspired in this way? There's no particular science to it, just follow the blueprint Ice Cube laid out (with a li'l help from Das Efx): Check yo' self before you wreck yo' self. I do this constantly, but I admit that I don't always use the information well. My assessments don't always guide me in the right path. For instance: At some point I realized that something about me makes people feel alright with doing things they are usually anywhere from hesitant to doing, to deadset against. And what did I do with this information I gained about myself? I manipulated people into letting me get away with shit they shouldn't have, and made them feel good about it. At one point I realized that people believe that I have unique insight into the human condition and trust me to counsel, advise or just relate things to them. What have I done with that information? Not much at all. And that's my next great challenge.

But I have been successful in using reflection to change the course of my life. At one point I learned that people like to have me around because I probably strike just the right balance between talking and listening. That has been invaluable career wise.

Then there's the story of me and my 8th grade year...

In junior high I was a bit of a badass - 3 suspensions, a few fights, countless detentions, cursed teachers out and all that. But I really wasn't a bad kid. You see, in fourth grade I called Ms. Cross a "stupid muthafucka" for not choosing me for the drama club (that was some drama for her ass, haha - sorry, guess I need to reflect a bit more on that) and all she did was make a funny face to get me to cheer up and all was forgiven on both sides (I had a pretty good rep back then for being a good kid also, so I'm sure that helped). No call home, teacher didn't find out, nothing. In other words I got away with it. Not only that, at some point before I cursed her out, I decided that the consequences couldn't possibly outweigh the satisfaction I'd get from doing what I wanted to do. That started a bit of a snowball effect that saw me start to consistently ask myself if any punishment available to me could deter me from doing dumb shit. Like I said, I wasn't really bad, so I didn't do anything crazy, it's just that when I did go overboard I was rarely concerned about the depth, turbulence or temperature of the waters. Since my mom didn't believe in beating me, only the threat of non-participation in something really good had any effect on me. (Two lessons to be learned here: 1. ALWAYS remember that peers are the most important people in most adolescents' lives; the worst punishments usually involve cutting them off from any communication or enjoyment with their friends, especially in the digital age - no phone, no computers, no parties, hell, forbid them to daydream if possible. 2. BEAT THAT ASS! Only an idiot would believe that fear isn't a deterrent.) So this all culminated with me Mr. Augenbraun jutting a clipboard in my chest and forbidding me from going to the end of year (and since it was 8th grade, end of junior high) party for doing any number of things I now forget I did, but I'm sure I would lay into my students for doing.

As soon as he forbade me, I knew what I would do. I mean, he couldn't hit me and neither would my mom, so when I escaped the room that the forbdden kids were being held in, to the horror of all the other convicts, I knew that the punishment couldn't outweigh the satisfaction I would feel. No way was I gonna sit in a room some yards away and hear everyone have fun. I showed up at the party to the amazement of my peers and stayed for a whole 3 minutes or so before I was caught and banished back to where I came from. But my fun was had. I wasn't there for the chips, soda and salacious reggae dancing (well, maybe for the salacious reggae dancing, haha...I know, I laugh at my own jokes too much). I was in it for the glory of the eacape. So even though I had to miss a party to get this information about myself, I learned that I have the ability to see consequences as much less severe than others. And that's why I don't embarass easily. That's why I can do/say things and not give a fuck because the limitations placed on others don't apply to me (although I have been known to place crippling limitations on myself - but thats for another blog I probably won't get around to writing). I also learned that, even as a 13 year old, I always had different motivations than my peers.

As my birthday approaches I wish for nothing but the peace to reflect on the first fifth of my life (I don't plan on livin too long, just about 150 or so) and the wisdom to make good decisions with the information I gain about myself. And as I reflect on this blog, I just remembered something - Ms. Cross was fine as hell! Pretty-ass soap opera-looking white woman. Think she was an actress too. What the hell was she doin' slummin' it on 155th?! *shrugs.com*

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

Bashing Gay-Bashing

2010-10-09T17:46:00.000-07:00

These anti-gay attacks (http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/10/08/seven-arrested-in-bronx-in-anti-gay-attacks/) are really fucking ridiculous dude. These guys choose to SODOMIZE gays for being homosexual. What part am I missing? You got these unfathomably ignorant people who call anything that is the slightest bit different "gay" b/c it doesn't adhere to their standards of ignorance. Because for some reason they assume what they think/feel is actually meaningful and I guess important to anyone besides them and their stupid ass friends. Then you got these young kids who feel it's ok and actually cool to FLAUNT their homophobia. Damn, b...

And I tell you, I've had good and bad experiences with gays. (Just as I have with Chinese people, mentally retarded people, fraternity memebers and all types of people). And I've said some horrible things about gays and I've made countless jokes. And you know what, "I love life for the wisdom it brings/When I became a man, I put away kid things." Like Probe from Nuk Fam said man, "People are people, enjoy it." I can't stand to see a fucking weedhead/drunk, philandering, dishonest cheat think they're better than someone bc of their sexual preference. Pardon me if I slip off this soapbox before you get a chance to feel me but if you've kinda consistently read my statuses, you might see that this has become something of a pattern with me (along with talking about how good I look and how bad my students are). You never know, and can't help, what you'll be passionate about once you get older.

Though I have little hope that it'll be a reality, I really hope people start coexisting better, no matter our different views. You believe homosexuality is wrong? Ok, but why does that have to manifest itself in a way that ruins other peoples' lives? I might be a huge douche (or at least play one online and on record, haha), but I have NEVER been ok with stupid people hurting other people for no reason and I never mean people harm. AND I'm not a pussy, a loser, a follower or a timid person. I'm an individual and a MAN. I'm...

StarPower, and I approve this message.

"Talkin' Shit"

2010-08-15T15:28:00.000-07:00

"Big house, long hallways/
Got 10 bathrooms, I could shit all day..."

Li'l Wayne in "We Be Steady Mobbin'"

The size of one's house, and by extension, the amount of bathrooms in one's house, has no bearing on the amount of shits one is able to take. Neither is the amount of shits one is able to take a measure of one's socio-economic status. Unless wealth brings an increase in the amount of roughage in one's diet, among it's many other privileges, there is nothing to make me believe that Wayne can take more shits than I can. Having 10 bathrooms does not mean you can take more shits than someone who may only have 1 or 2 bathrooms. I would venture to say that if quantity is your thing, then having one consistent bathroom to shit in may be preferable to splitting time between 10. It may be hard to build up the right chemistry to foster a steady shitting regimen if you have to shuttle between 10 bathrooms. So I say, Wayne, your wealth may mean you have more money than I'll ever fathom, more women that I could handle in 5 lifetimes, can probably buy you the degrees I've struggled to get, and can get you 8 months in jail for a charge that would probably have me rotting for the rest of my natural life. Hell, being as rich as you are may even make you a better person than me. You can probably buy morality at a certain income level. But shitting - I'm not conceding that one bro. Just as I'm sure that boasting of being able to "shit all day" was an exercise in hyperbole, I'm sure that in the single bathroom of my one bedroom rental I can probably outshit you no matter how many bathrooms you may have in your mansion(s).

P.S. I wonder if you get special shitting privileges at Rikers. This is the song, btw:

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

My DMV(ictory) Story

2010-08-03T07:54:00.000-07:00

Woke up not as thankful for doing so as I should have. So let me take this time to announce to the multiverse that I hope there is a never-ending continuation of such back-aching, gassy, I-don't-want-to-do-list-filled mornings in my future. The first thing I thought about was my war with my gut when I should've been focused on the peace in my bed. Lesson re-learned.

So yeah y'all, my love affair with this life continues. As tragically beautiful as a baby girl born this morning in a Hatian slum, I took some time to reflect on two very different DMV visits. But first thought about how large a role the DMV can play in your life once you become an adult. It's an institution that demands your time, money, and attention. And for many of us, we acquiesce with greater loyalty than we do to banks, utility companies, and even the IRS. Why? Because our wheels are often at stake, man! At the very basis of our nature, we want to fight, fuck, eat, and travel. Some of us have lost touch with that last one, often staying in our hoods until we develop a misplaced sense of allegiance to a place we can be taken out of/away from without a moment's notice. We know all the neighborhood hustlers, but don't know who represents our "hood" in Congress. I'm also guilty of this; mostly because I don't stay in any hood too long. I'm in my fifth crib in 9 years. I expect more as I achieve more, so I get up and go. It's my evolution, a microcosm of what our ancestors did thousands and thousands of years ago before they, well, evolved, lol. But logic and inaccurate comparisons be damned; I long for a time when we fought for the best mate, fucked her and had some kids, had those kids help us catch food, and then followed the food to new lands. We don't have to chase food anymore, but we do chase the resources that allow us to continue eating. And once you have wheels, you realize how important they are if you want to continue to fight, fuck, eat, and travel. Actually, you can skip the fighting because you interact less when you whip, and really, who wants to fight anyway? How uncivilized. But wheels DEFINITELY help you fuck, no? Married men such as StarP are not concerned about such things, but he's seen how the female species often respond to the wheels during mating season. Let's leave it at that.

So once you have wheels, you wanna keep them and be able to use them as freely as possible. Now, once my Jeep lease was up (you know it wasn't in my name, haha!), I had to start sharing the Nissan with the Mrs., which was wack, but not horrible. Allowed for more quality time and less opportunities for me to do something stupid on wheels. Like getting tickets for illegal cell phone use and driving without insurance. And ignoring those tickets until finally deciding to pay months later only to realize the license is now suspended until June '11. Dope Show. Yes, I waited on a wack line in the heat, and then waited in equally wack DMV pews to be told this, AND, that I owe a $750 fine due before my license is restored. I walked out of the Yonkers DMV dejected, but not defeated. The following conversation changed my life, or at least the next 11 months of it:

The DMV clerk leaned over the counter, allowing me a nice downblouse shot, and whispered into my ear, "Don't tell a soul I told you this. But have you ever heard of...*she looks to her sides to make sure no one is listening*...a RESTRICTED LICENSE?"

"I thought such a thing was a myth, as told by drunken Long Island & Westchester County whores who can't manage to maintain a driver's license," I replied.

"No, young man. It is truth. And I see you are a kind soul, prone to harmless mistakes. Well, mistakes that should be harmless, but that end up as collosal fuck-ups that affect you and all you love. I can tell all of this from the way you wear your hat."

She then shared some information, and a location, the W.125 St. DMV, where there would be someone who could help me. She told me what I should bring with me to let them know who I was, where I came from, and why I was there. She said that would be enough.

"I've told you enough," she said nervously before putting her DMV mask back on. "Carry on wayward son. You will be in my thoughts as I judge the rest of the customers until my lunch break."

Then yesterday I took my suspended license and drove to Harlem. Took me FOREVER to find parking, increasing the chances I'd be stopped, and subsequently jailed, so I decided to use a parking lot. Showed up at 9. Doors opened at 8:30. Coupla hundred people in there. I first went to the Traffic Violation side to pay the tickets, which swelled to $750. Yes, 750 American currency. Only took about 6, 7 minutes. Then followed the directions of my Yonkers connect and started a process that, VERY SURPRISINGLY, was quick and painless. In less than 30 minutes, I had a magical Restricted License (to and from work, dmv-related stuff, dropping off kids, or something like that) after assuring the Harlem clerk that, yes, "I got a job." I was paying the lot attendant $12 for 30 minutes of parking before I could say, "A nigga shoulda just took the Metro North down here because the shit is RIGHT down the fucking block." So now I can whip (semi-)legally again. Gotta come up with some good excuses if the boys ever stop me at 2am coming from the club though. School fundraiser? School basketball game went into (over)overtime? I don't know. We'll figure it out. Anyway the most important thing right now is...getting another effin' car man! This one car for the household shit is for the birds, dude! Anyone know anyone esle selling a car? My budget tops at around $2000, because this will be short term until the Mrs. just goes ahead and gets that Range, Lex, or Beemer, like ALL school administrators seem to get. Until then, "picture me rolling." Sometimes. I aint giving up the Metro North pass just yet!

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

"The Realest Shit He Ever Wrote..."

2010-08-02T10:20:00.000-07:00

...was, "Man they treat me like a legend, am I really this cold?"

Yeah, he's aware. He's playing along, because well, why wouldn't he, right? But he knows something doesn't add up.

I'm just wondering if it's alright for me to dislike Drake? No, seriously, like, can I dislike him without being called a hater? I mean, I caught a lot of heat (but not as much as I expected) for exposing the sham that is Lauryn Hill's musical legend, so I'm thinking speaking unfavorably about another insanely popular, well-connected semi-singer/overrated rapper might not sit well with some. Either way, I don't dislike him, so that's not even an accurate question. Is is alright for me to criticize Drake? Why would I wanna do that, you may ask? Because I like many things about his music, but since he's all over all the stations and videos and collabs and albums and commercials I see every day, his faults as an artist become more glaring. It's a byproduct of exposure. Eventually, you start to see the armor's chinks, because you realize that nothing is perfect, especially a rapper that is a very proficient, but sanitized, paint-by-the-numbers version of his mentor. Take away all of the danger and the intriguing insanity of Wayne, as well as every single flow but one, and you're left with Drake. By the way, according to Raekwon the Chef, it isn't a stretch at all to compare Drake with Lauryn.

Anyway, I wanna know if I'm missing something or if I'm accurate in describing his star as brighter than his talent should be able to produce. I wanna know what kind of pics this kid has of Jay-Z in Bavaria being inducted into the Illuminati with Edgar Bronfman Jr. and Barack Obama as torchbearers. What kind of video does he possess of Eminem in a 3-way with Kanye West and one of Lady Gaga's backup dancers? Did he get his hands on emails revealing a deal between Glenn Beck and Diddy to carry out the last phase of the complete destruction of the black community?

Ok, I'm trippin', haha!

But damn this kid has some pull. Pull that just doesn't seem to match his talent. Pull that shouldn't seem to garner him the kind of respect he gets from people who are actually legends. (Although he is WILDIN' OUT by calling Emimem "the greatest of all time" - then again, I guess all things considered, an argument can be made; his sales are bananas, longevity and output is respectable, skill is undeniable, impact tremendous, and songs have been great when he put his all into them. So, objectively, I wouldn't shoot someone down for putting him in a top-5 conversation. If we just talked about a few artists' careers without telling you who the careers belonged to, I bet you'd be as impressed with his as you are with anyone esle's. Still, y'all know how I feel about the phenomenon that is Eminelvis - not a fan. Not necessarily his fault though; I can separate the man from the mythology, I just hope he can).

Back to Aubrey though. "One-flow Aubrey." I mean, it's a hell of a flow. He's absolutely murdering radio with his one flow. But what truly great MC has ONE flow? Jay and KRS-One and Nas (did we forget that he can arguably still be called the best rapper in the world?) and Black Thought and Big Boi can switch flows within the same song, even the same verse! We probably didn't even really understand the impact of "flow" before Rakim. Treach had flows for days and Big Daddy Kane combined voice, flow, lyrics, and persona to set a blueprint that obviously influenced Big, Jay, Pac, Snoop and countless others. Drake writes the hell out of that one song he keeps releasing, but I'm waiting on a second song. And a second flow. Each song has him singing a STUPID hook that almost makes you think he's come up with something deep until he lets you know that there seems to be NOTHING deep about him. Not that everyone has to be deep, but he damn sure tries to make you feel like he is. The hooks rarely have anything to do with the verses, exposing the fact that these songs are for commerce and not art; all that matters is how they fit together sonically as a radio single. And the verses always make shallow attempts at outlining the dichotomous nature of fame while trying to satisfy the debaucherous desires of the fans he hopes are living vicariously through his song. A winning formula? Obviously. A formula for hip-hop greatness? Shit, I don't even know anymore. Maybe the standards have changed, and we just have to roll with it, sorta like in my dayjob.

Drake and LeBron James are the new evolution. (Click here for an AMAZING article on LeBron's REAL impact as a player/businsessman). They are perfecting the art form of maximizing the business sides of their professions. "Use my talent, and all of the business lessons of the past, to generate as much revenue as possible." This is the perfect time for Drake, since rappers respect money more than anything and there is no longer a such thing as "selling out." That term has always been a bit skewed because the criteria was very harsh, but let's not mistake Snoop's collaboration with Katy Perry as a much-anticipated mixing of different worlds. We know what it is. And it's ok nowadays. Just as it's ok for older rappers to seek some of the money and limelight that will trickle off of Drake, by doing shit like this.

So I guess the greatest trick Drake ever pulled was making the world think he was a thoroughbred instead of a one-trick pony.

Let me acknowledge though that he is early into his career, and he is a hip-hop artist. And I strongly believe that no one can do hip-hop without experiencing some kind of love. And I believe he grew up loving it and everything associated with it. While continuing to write songs over the course of his lifetime, I'm sure eventually nothing will be able to satisfy an inner desire to affect the culture in a more positive, meaningful way than challenging himself to evolve creatively will. So I'm speaking on Drake in 2010. I do feel like there is something genuinely cool about this kid, and maybe we'll see it once the radiation wears off. Lastly, I always remind myself that creating original hip-hop statements of ANY kind is not easy and can't be done by everyone. It takes time, effort, and talent.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

Apple For The Teacher

2010-07-29T10:05:00.000-07:00

Let's chill on the Charter vs. Public debate. That's usually based in some sort of personal issue that has ZERO to do w/educating the kid(s) in front of you; no matter where it happens, let's continue to be thankful and have love for the fact that every kid can be educated. Compulsory education hasn't been around very long, and education itself, as an art and a science and an ideal, is in it's infancy still, with varying schools of pedagogy yielding many different results for different demographics. Yes, we LOVE to debate in this current culture. It's EXTREMELY easy to do so behind our keyboards. But in the end, we are often a bunch of psuedo-experts that end up having, at best, a 75%-25% talk-to-walk ratio.

There are FIVE issues I try my damndest not to even discuss, let alone argue: religion, marriage, hip-hop, politics, and education. Along with sports, those are the topics that lay folks become instant experts on. Once you've spent a few weeks around an ACTUAL expert in a field, you realize that they can't even begin to give you a clear picture of the different angles of a topic, you realize that that's because the more you learn, the more you probably become open-minded instead of taking a firm stand, as the lay folks do, and that questioning and then testing your beliefs is as important as figuring out what they are. Yet, I see people behave like experts because they catch a bit of CNN every morning, read a few articles, and engage in a bit of unbalanced discourse with peers. Some people are so concerned with being right. But tell me this: even if they are proven to be right, what would they do with their "rightness?" For example, take the Charter vs. Public debate. Although impossible, what if there were a way to decide that one is better than the other? And then you went up to say, someone on the Public side, and you said, "You're right. You've been right. If you even everything out, Public is at least even with Charter, and often superior." Then what would that person do? Besides feel an empty smugness? There is often nothing to do with rightness. Not the kind of rightness that can't move anything or anyone forward. That's a selfish rightness, a "self-righteousness," if you will. More importantly, it isn't problem-solving. So now we are starting to have "a new game in town," as Saul Brodsky, Mercy College prof put it. Meaning, there was only free public education. Now there is also free charter education. Regardless of your stance, it's here to stay and it's another option. As is private, catholic, and homeschooling. Guess what? Soon there will be another game in town. And maybe another. Soon we'll have schools sponsored by businesses - BP School, anyone? Verizon Academy?

I'm more concerned with something different. I think the MUCH bigger issue is teacher quality. More than lack of funding even, in my opinion. More than testing, and all of it's tangential issues. Everyone CANNOT teach. It's hard as FUCK, it takes a lot of thought, energy, skill, and experience. I'm only in my 3rd year, but I had valuable experience from other jobs. Still, I suck at it; I just get lots of accolades b/c of my passion and potential. It takes commitment. I may not have that, so...either I develop some more or I need to get in where I fit in, which may or may not be the classroom. Like Jay said at the beginning of the god-awful Jeyonce collab "Hollywood," - "It aint for everybody!" Schools need great teachers and administrators. As well as other staff, faculty, and supporters, but it starts with them. I've seen amazing school buildings, with great resources, and smart (but incapable - at educating at least) professionals that were nothing more than Versailles full of jesters. We need to build from the inside out. Capable, passionate teachers will create an atmosphere of achievement and self-efficacy that will INHERENTLY spread beyond the school and achieve larger goals. But we try to build from the outside in - give us money, we will build and buy. No, give us money and let us rework the system that trains and sustains pedagogues. Teachers should be getting paid along the same scale as doctors, lawyers, and judges b/c they do as much work, and they should. And the profession should be as respected. But that's for another blog I probably won't write b/c I've done that paper in grad school and handed it in about 5 different times under different titles. Fact is, as much shit as I talk about kids, they're kinda awesome, and they need great adults to guide them.

Haha, Doug Stewart on "First Take" said that "It's not the 'Hall of Niceness," when speaking on T.O. and if he's Hall of Fame worthy. So right. He's a tool. I hate his VH1 show. But according to the numbers, he was nearly as great as he said he was. And that was pretty fucking good, dude.

Don't you LOVE that Direct T.V. commercial with the Russian mob guy who "has opulence," "likes saving the money," and kisses his pygmy giraffe? The best line? "I jump in it." Almost seems like he was really saying that about Dafinka who was sitting to his left there.

I only said Dafinka b/c we met a Bulgarian waitress in Atlantic City last weekend named Dafinka who was waiting for Joe to stop hating so she could ask me about my tattoos. It's all good Einstein - Elena was the hot one anyway, haha! LOTS of weird shit went down at that place but the weirdest was putting on the trunks ready for a coupla rounds of drinks, sun, and ogling at the pool, and being met by staff inexplicably dressed in Christmas-themed clothing, blasting the most horrendous holiday music, only interrupted by an e.p.'s worth of Tracey Chapman songs somewhere in the middle. Felt like a fucking Fort Lauderdale retirement home.

Damn I wish Vincent Diesel was in "The Expendables."

I love Skip Bayless and I love to look at Reischea Canidate.

So, yeah, I went to the DMV with a happy face and if I didn't I wouldn't have known that my license was suspended over a month ago and I won't get it back until next summer. tlol (tragic laugh out loud). Caught me driving w/o something I should have. And I got a...oh shit, Oswalt to Phillies; makes them the favorite - tangent.com...so yeah, I also got a HILARIOUSLY large fine as a side order with my suspended license dish. Thing is, I got the bread right now, but if I can't get my license for a year, why not spend the dough on (more) strippers, smedium Armani shirts, tattoos and an authentic WWE championship belt NOW. I must've looked PATHETIC after I got the news because even the bitchy DMV clerk babied me while the line was getting long after she saw I was CRUMBLING. Then this really nice chick at Chase asked me what was wrong and damn near held me in her bosom while she ordered me new cards. Ugh, I kno; I'm such a baby, momma's boy w/o a momma.

I'm setting up an account for my li'l sis to match the one my li'l brother has, 16 and 17, them, and I told them, "I'm gonna put in enough for you to survive on your own the rest of the summer, but not enough to make you feel like you shouldn't have a job." You know, they can afford the movies, but candy is a hard decision. They can buy sneakers, but it better match all the hats they already have type of thing. As for me, I just paid off a coupla large bills 'cause I got a coupla large bills in the mail, haha! I'm almost depleted, but those monkeys jumped off my back and disappeared into thin air. Rocks.

Last year I did almost exclusively black, white, and grey semi-formal to formal dress almost every workday, with an "all black everything" day or week thrown in here and there (pic on the right - yeah man; handsome black man, jet ebony man of the month status, don't front baby, haha). Any suggestions for a new flow? Definitely gonna expand my vest-kept secret status and fuck with some new hats. Think I'ma rock the taper hard, with a nice amount of hair on the head b/c I get annoying, painful hairbumps if I shave too close - yes, even on the top of my friggin' head. I'ma keep the face shaved smooth, "duckbill" status, term credited to Drew Ricketts.

I STILL can't believe that this dude said "PAUSE" mad clear and professional, like he was saying "bless you" to Spike Lee DURING a televised MSG interview.

Damn, during the Isiah regime, even the INTERVIEWERS were absurd, lol.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

"Greatest Trickery" & The Lauryn Hill Myth

2010-07-28T07:20:00.000-07:00

Lauryn Hill has been fooling the world for the past 15 years.

She helps sustain the "greatest trick-ery," as first described by Verbal Kint in "Usual Suspects," but jargonized by StarPower & Mercury during numerous rant sessions. Referring to the ghastly gangster Keyser Soze, Kint states, "The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he didn't exist." So the template goes, "The greatest trick ('A'- conniving trickster) ever pulled was convincing ('B' - unknowing victim{s}) believe ('A' did something 'A' really didn't, but is widely creditd with)." The greatest trick Lauryn Hill ever pulled was making music fans believe she was great at anything besides creating enough mystique to get people to make her seem more talented than she actually is. Yes the album was dope. But it was just that - "the" album. One. Something has to be said for an artist actually, you know, creating art. It wasn't the greatest any kind of album of all time, she had EXTREMELY talented collaborators who bought into her b.s. (that mystique!), AND I believe the rumors that she takes credit for work she didn't do AT ALL b/c I know someone she tried to rip off, and because I want to.

Yet millions of Pan-African Pams & Rootsy Ricks will forever let her legend live off of that one trick and I guess "The Score," which was just as dope and guided by the talents of the man, her ex, who probably was the original dred who really sent her psyche into warp drive. How many dope collabs has she done in the past decade? C'mon man, an artist has to create. What has she done that has set any trends or broke any ground since? How often do you even hear her standing up about any issues? Mentoring anyone? Communicating with her "fan base?" Who is this lady?!

I swear, I credit her with "greatest trickery" only approached by maybe Eminem's media machine (who took some very funny shots at her early on) convincing the urban fan that he doesn't make the WHITEST music in the world. Dude; this guy dresses like Bono now, sings god-awful contrived triumph melodies all the time, makes mediocre stadium songs, and pulled off your standard white artist "I'm outta control, I'm not, I am, I'm getting arrested, I'm on drugs, music is my therapy, I wanted to kill myself, I'm back to being who I never was" charade that was even more predictable than his duet partner Rhianna's "homely hottie to I'm not a whore but I play one on tv" transformation. And you know what? I ain't mad. He hustled. some called it from day one, some didn't, but let's take a sec to acknowledge it. Plus, he's VERY talented AND...HE MAKES COCKSUCKING SONGS, for goodness sakes. Hill appears at "I'm Cool Because I Know About And Attend This" Music Festival, gets a mic and a guitar (which she needs to stop doing in honor of women who REALLY get it in on some singer-songwriter-instrumentalist shit like the infinitely more talented Teena Marie), says some sad shit and her bumfuckery is not only accepted, it's applauded!

Dude, unless she comes back with a much more humble aura and a GOOD SONG, I'll be as excited about her return as a teacher is about the return of the school year in September. Fuck Lauryn Hill, I got a whole generation of kids to Miseducate. I'd rather listen to a Sean Kingston song. Featuring Sanjaya. With Plies on the hook. Produced by David Guetta. Remixed by Dr. Luke. Restarted 7 times bc Flex keeps dropping bombs on it. Ok I've crossed the line from critical to insulting. My bad. I've jammed to more than a few Guetta tunes in the past year or so. Whatever, gonna go eat some breakfast and workout to some Bieb. You Lauryn Hill fans stay miseducated, will ya?! *simultaneously snapping my fingers, winking, and shooting my fingers at all of you*

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

If Making A Record Is Like Having A Child, I'm About To Go Into Labor

2010-07-12T13:52:00.000-07:00

This wasn't my intention, but it happened anyway. Nearly two weeks into my summer vacation, I'm the artist who has locked himself in a room with his manic-depressive thoughts, odd dietary/exercise habits and unkempt grooming, obsessively typing away song lyric after song lyric in hopes of raising his game exponentially as compared to his last fully-conceived creative triumph. I'm not one of those artists who feels like madness somehow fosters genius; I'm neither mad nor caught up in the precarious mindstate that often produced the words that attracted the ears of my most loyal fans. I'm...immersed. I'm somewhere else with it. I'm having conversations with my different emotions, playing back my memories from formerly-unseen angles, and emptying the contents of my dreamcatcher, each morning, into my fingertips. Playing ringtoss with the halo and the horns. And I find myself reflecting on my favorite lyric sung by a Canadian band you've probably heard of - "call it impulsive, call it compulsive, or call it insane/but when I'm surrounded I just can't...stop."

Now, at exactly two weeks into my summer vacation, I come out of this room and into a smaller one to let the emotions and the memories and dreams speak to someone else. I've never put so much into my songs while trying to still provide a certain accessibility. I'm hoping that people will find a popular appeal in this music, as Scott Thorough has given me beats that have his unique flavor, but wouldn't seem out of place on many tastefully conceived contemporary hip-hop albums (no, the contradiction of that phrase isn't lost on me - "tastefully conceived contemporary hip-hop albums" seem to be a rarity, but I think we are striking a good balance between a commercial sound and the best elements of the independent aesthetic). Making the scales even out is an art form in itself. Who knows? This record may turn out to be just as, or even more, "underground" than anything else I've even done, at least to the public. But there's also something to be said for music so interesting that the people are drawn to it for no other reason. I wrote about myself in an honest way, and by doing that I was writing about everyone else, because we make the strongest connections with other people who are willing to share the truth. And many of us have, and notice, the same truths. That's why things like this are so touching, and a lot deeper and more meaningful than the "Hallmark experience." It may not be as marketable, but the folks who matter most to you will pay attention.

Conceptualizing and writing is the pregnancy, recording is the labor, mixing and mastering (and artwork?) is the delivery, the finished product is the baby. Shows and marketing and promotion and all that shit is parenting, haha!

Two Cents On LeBron, Couple More On Leadership

2010-07-09T09:35:00.000-07:00

I'm a lifelong Knicks fan, and after that, I've always liked the Jazz, so I know about rooting for ball teams that can't get over the hump. But don't make the hoopla convince you that this 'Bron stuff is anything more than ball and money. It isn't manslaughter, child abuse, water contamination, or even fare-raising. So I hope that when you discuss it, you leave some mental space to remember that it ain't life or death (even if he can't go back home!). Have fun with it then go back to complaining about real shit, like the proposed $1 tax for buying a new Metrocard (WTF?!).

*I used a lot of punctuation right there at the end of the preceding paragraph, probably not correctly. Shrugs.com.

Can you look at the LeBron situation as objectively as possible? Is that something you're even capable of? If it's not even something you're interested in, you wont' read this anyway (especially since everyone has added their two cents; well shit, I got a few cents of my own!)

I'm not gonna fault him for being soft. He's talented, but maybe he's not tough; he's definitely a momma's boy. He RAN to that team, maybe because it was CRUSHING him that people keep talking about how he needs to win a chip A.S.A.P. Maybe he couldn't take it. I mean, maybe he realized he's not the guy (a la Kobe/Mike) who can will other players to squeeze out every inch of their talents. In absence of that, the only thing he could do to make people stop making him feel bad was to go to where a chip would be as close to a guarantee as possible, while also (and don't discount this part) having friends who knows what he goes through (star athlete drama) who he can relax around and joke and feel better around.

He's still a young dude - he wants to joke all the time, look at girls, play games, buy things, and eat stuff. And have mad fun with friends, some of who can afford what he can and understand his issues. Doesn't make him a bad dude, just a soft one. Who's been winning and being congratulated for being able to do it for a long time. If you have have the easiest time dealing with something in a positive way for 20 years, you probably don't even expect it to be any different. When it changes, negatively, what makes you think you would be able to just "do the right thing?" You probably wouldn't know what the right thing is.

The one talent he may be missing is the talent to elevate others to their greatest heights. That's leadership. I've personally seen leadership make up for talent more often than I've seen the reverse. I know plenty of uber-capable people who've done shitty work under a person who knew what to do and how to do it, but couldn't get the rest of us to. Conversely, I've know people who might not have had every tool for the job, but knew how to utilize the people under him/her who did and made them want to. That's where success came. There's hardly anything I know how to do well as a teacher, or in my past youth work. Assessments and acuity, and data and balanced literacy, and differentiation and conferencing, and behavior plans and unit plans and education plans - I don't know how to do any of that shit. But I believe wholeheartedly that my only talent has served me very well - I can get kids to believe that they are better people and smarter and more capable than anyone else has made them feel. I can make them not want to let me down. I can make them not want to let themselves down. And I can see the results near-instantaneously (in school terms - meaning when scores come out or when you finally hear from the parent).

Yeah, we always hear about the teacher who hears from a student 10 years later how s/he impacted the kid, even though the kid didn't know it then, and the teacher feeling all good about it, and a how a teacher shouldn't expect to always see the impact of their teaching immediately. Bullshit dude. I want my flowers while I can smell them, I want my championship while I'm still a star, not a role player, and I want to get these kids to take my teachings with them into the next grade. When 3 kids told me how they realize I prepared them to be young men in sixth grade and that my teachings about life stuck in their heads, and that they are getting excellent grades (and I KNOW these aren't the brightest or most mature kids), and I received proof in the form of report cards, I was like, "Hell yeah. Instant impact. The quicker we start paying forward, and getting the kids to do it, the fucking better dude." I'm the leader they often lack at home. I can lead these kids; fuck leading adults dude, that's lame. Grown-ass people need to get down or lay down as far as I'm concerned, and shut up while doing it. So yeah, it takes me a week to do a cocksucking I.E.P., but I can get your non-writing, bad ass student to write you a full-page apology for his behavior if you give me 10 minutes. And he'll know he better be doing the right thing when I walk past his classroom. Might lead to some better grades. But enough self-fellating disguised as "It's-all-about-the-kids"-ery. What does all of this shit I'm saying really mean? It means that...

...'Bron, you're an EFFIN' loser man! I mean, yeah, you're gonna win. A lot. But still! You could've won here man. Don't you know every championship in New York actually counts for TWO? Do you think the Knicks really managed to win TWO titles before? C'mon, they won one, but it counted double! Same with the Yankees. No one wins over 20 titles in any team sport, it's absurd. But they keep doubling up baby! You should've come here man, you and Amare makin' it rain and twistin' b-tches out and destroying relationships while destroying other franchises. Oh it could've been grand.

Kidding, somewhat!

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

"That's What She Said"

2010-07-06T17:14:00.000-07:00

"That's what she said" moments among my text messages (maybe you'll recognize yourself, haha):

"Good, you're out already"

"Waste of my fucking time! I should have skipped tonight"

"Up"

"Longwood. Ok cool. How do u like it?"

"I did it in both already, fuck it"

"Woke in pain but feel better now"

"I think I'm there...and we need like 2 more joints."

"Yea, was in and out in 3mins"

"I'm late too!"

"Sorry again about the baby talk"

"oh...alright I'm coming."

Hard Lee Whir Kin

2010-06-21T14:23:00.000-07:00

Shout out to people who realize that their job is but an important PORTION of what steers your vessel through the sea of life. It's a significant something and it's nowhere near everything. This is a perspective I've attained, and retained, through various stages of employment and unemployment. Like Chris said, "A nigga never been as broke as me." I like that. I'll skip over the details as long as you understand that I not only grew up poor, I was also poor once I grew up.

Now I speak as a DINK (go expand your vocab by at least one and get your google on) who realizes that the more "upwardly mobile" you become, socio-economically speaking, the more it seems like the job takes up way too big a slice of a waking day. As a teacher for instance, we could be talking about an hour to get ready for work, 7 hours at work, 2 hours in afterschool, 2 hours planning or doing other job-related things, and 2 more hours to get home and come down, way down, from all of it. That's 14 of the 17 hours one may be awake on any given day (God bless you who can manage to get 8 sleeping hours each night, but by the looks of the facebook feeds, that aint too many of you). This is how work goes from being dominant to stressful and eventually, overwhelming. Who signed up for that when they accepted the position? Not I, said the Rod.

My work could never be my life because in my life I freely curse, fuck, smoke, imbibe, dance, sing, and walk around naked and at work I only do these things occassionally. It's baffles me to try to understand why my supervisor would expect me to be available (to hear gripes), concerned (with what s/he is griping about), or capable (to help solve what causes the gripe) on my off-day. I could never forgive myself for being that responsible. Mr. Collins is about to take 2 months off. Paid. "Seeee youuu, in Septeeeemberrrrr."

I'm StarPower when I'm not Mr. Collins. And I approve this message.

Vampires Make Us A Better Human

2010-06-21T14:09:00.000-07:00

StarPower is a better person when "True Blood" is on. When I have 9pm, Sunday nights on (It's not tv, it's) HBO to look forward to, for some reason I'm more equipped to stabilize myself. The disorders all keep each other at bay by working in perfect harmony to balance themselves. No one wiggles free to escape from the asylum. Which is good because I don't worry about invasion. I'm more concerned with release. The wilderness isn't outside, it's within. And when I have my weekly dose of violent, oversexed vampires, werewolves, mindreaders, and maenads, for some reason, I feel a lot more calm. And I have a bit more inspiration to create something entertaining when I'm being entertained. I write with greater intensity, and by now we should know that a poem a day keeps the psychosis away.

Mr. Me, King of the Aloof, plotting a trimphant return to the booth. They say my mind is like the subway - underappreciated and poorly maintained. Still we travel.

I don't have much appreciation for babies. Whatever others find aesthetically pleasing about them completely escapes me. "Babies are boring/they loud, selfish, helpless, lazy, and annoying - like me when I'm sleepy..." Thing is though, I'm not boring. And that's the worst thing about a baby. I love them for their potential, but until they can start doing a coupla interesting things, I don't have much use for them. Always said I probably won't really love my baby 'til s/he is about 8 months old.

At some point during today I'll stop blurting out, "I think I'm Big Meech, Larry Hoover." But that point won't be at this point. That proclamation had no point other than the fact that I THINK I'M BIG MEECH!!!!!

Larry Hoover.

What kind of bird is that bird in the hood that isn't a pigeon?Those small joints.

This blog post will now end due to motion sickness. Sorry for the inconvenience but it had to end sometime. Now go ahead and close this window and continue browsing through the others that have porn on them.

I'm StarPower and I approve this message.

Dear Y'all

2010-06-20T06:58:00.000-07:00

People ask "where you been at?" and say "You don't be around" and "I haven't seen you" and stuff like that, and my only reaction can be - "Where YOU been at?!" I'm, like, everywhere! And I've been there, through the teaching, the studying, the marrying, the family-ing, everything. YOU have to broaden YOUR horizons because there is a whole world beyond that same circle of events you're always at. I'm still that UPTOWN nigga who made it into the historic "A GREAT DAY IN BROOKLYN" photo shoot alongside Mos Def, Mercury, Omar from "The Wire," Charles Barron and more. And I'm now that nigga who sees the results of his efforts to secure an artistic presence in the other boroughs as well. I still attend some of the events and venues I used to, but while I've decreased my attendance at those places, I've increased my presence at a bunch of other places.

I've been hosting/planning/presenting shows, coordinating happy hours, recording/writing music, traveling w/the woman out of state, traveling w/the students out of state (tomorrow!), performing at fundraisers and album releases and speakeasies, going to weddings, making money at workshops, jogging/walking with stamina I didn't have when I was a teenager, arranging for people from OUR circle to have new opportunities (K-Swift is speaking at my students' GRADUATION this week), etc, etc. I know for a fact, b/c I've heard it to my face, that some people think this education and educating shit is somehow incongruent with my artistry, when in fact, it's given me more freedom (time- and money-wise), more inspiration, and I constantly intertwine the two. Maybe you caught me using my album cover as a personal identity project or making my professor want to write linguistics papers about us b/c me and Merc did a whole presentation in Duggie language. Or moving a crowd in a new and unique way by using language and techniques I've learned while obtaining my degree and teaching.

I continue to be that nigga who sang "Laissez Faire (Hands Off)" in a church right after marching through 125 St. with Merc, some artists/activits and whoever was down to join. I'm that nigga who might forgo your hip-hop show to see my sister praise-dance or have an open house she coordinated for her abstinence program. I'm that nigga who didn't see a friend in years, felt bad about it and decided to drive to Harlem, hoping she lived in the same building, and took a shot in the dark by leaving a note with my email address under the intercom door to her building and pray nobody threw it away in the hours between me leaving it and her arriving (or not arriving) home from work; and since God loves me for some strange reason, she got it and we're back in touch. I'm that nigga who's coached basketball for the first time and gave the kids something to feel good about (in apparent disagreement with the principal's opinion) as they move them into a dirty trailer barely fit for inmates.

What I'm not is "off the grid."
What I'm not is "a Bronx snob," as a friend called me (truly a friend, I'm not upset at all, you have a misconception).
What I'm not is "retired, fallen back, or mellowed out" by an evolution of my humanity that some mistakenly thinks conflicts with my evolution as a creative entity.
What I'm not is bitter.
I'm as flawed and borderline as I've ever been and I'm that same nigga who wrote and lived "The Petting Zoo."
I'm that nigga who KNOWS he needs to release some art for the world to consume, but hopes his recent efforts will be proof of working smarter as opposed to harder. The Scott Thoro/StarPower album will be a monstrosity.
I'm that nigga who realized that he can't be mad b/c, like the world's best rapper (*tongue planted firmly in cheek) Drake said, y'all just 'missed me a little while (you thought) I was gone.'

Still That Nigga,
StarPower

2010-06-14T09:37:00.001-07:00

"What am I doin'? Oh yeah, that's right, I'm doin' me...and this what I'ma do 'til it's over."

You ain't lie Drake. The most profound thing you may ever say. It's a realization I have to come to each day.

Dear Blog,

Twitter and I weren't compatible although we agreed to give it another shot this summer. Facebook continues to give me good web, although we have our moments. I'm thinking we all try co-existing this summer once again and see where it takes us. I'm a writer and my sanity hangs in the balance. You take a little more effort to be involved with but everytime I visit I realize why we decided to go forward to begin with. I'm also thinkin' we hook-up with the facebook fan page a little more. This'll be an interesting season and I don't think anyone should be left out. Ok, bye.

-StarPo

Conflict Management Part 2

2010-06-14T06:26:00.000-07:00

Look at the pic I posted on my facebook page, from a recent professional development I attended, to see Conflict Management Part 1. Then read through this text exchange I had with my wife about 30 minutes ago, about a confrontation I had about 90 minutes ago, and tell me if I've learned anything. This happened in front of her school. It involved me, a gigantic fireman, and a school zone - spectacle ensued:

Her: Glad yall didn't fight! Ill find out the details later;) u r crazy heard the guy was wild big hahahaha. My tough man

Me: That nigga was big! I ain't care either. 6-5 ass nigga. He was pussy tho. Firefighter.

Me: He was tryin to reason with me on some pussy shit. And then Aint wanna talk when I try to talk logically. Nigga was like a wrestler size, haha.

Her: Did he cut u off?

Her: Why were yall beefing

Me: I made my usuall u turn in more traffic than I shudve bc cars were steady coming. It was reckless but I've done it before. He stopped middle of street to lecture me. I said ur right, now let's move bc both of us were holding up traffic. He turns his head and I think he's leaving bc he's HOLDING UP TRAFFIC, and I told him I'm in a rush.

Me: But he doesn't leave and I slightly hit his car. We argue a bit and i back up, I'm being very accomodating. But then I kinda lose it and walk across traffic to riff before he barely gets outta his car. My fault for appearing confrontational, I admit

Me: He says there's nothing to reason about as I tell him yes I was wrong but he shud also accept responsibility. I kept riffing in his face each time he kept trying to get into car and leave bc I was riled up. Again, immature b he couldve made that a bad situation bc I ain't hav a license, I was wrong, it was a school zone, he was a firefighter, and he was gigantic. I had to literally look up at him. But that's y I don't lose my temper bc I don't think. M... pushed me away and S... came out also. Anyway, I'm sorry.

Her: Its ok I found it hellva funny when they attempted to tell me the story!

Her: Yeah u can't get upset bc u lose ur cool completely

Me: I sure do. I acted like I was the 6-5 nigga and that nigga was a FIREFIGHTER. I was all in his face on some dumb teenager shit.

Ola Ola Ay

2010-04-22T14:25:00.000-07:00

If I Happen To Change My Name...
rap or mom-given, it's gonna be changed to Ola. I'd rather the word be in the masculine (you know, an 'o' ending) but whatever. And whatever too. I'm not planning to change my name but a recent convo inspired a flashfront on the topic.

It was during a different convo that I was christened "Ola." It translates to "wave" in Spanish. The connotation was that people encounter me as they do a wave. Seen from a distance, one is never quite sure how a wave is going to hit - some seem monstrous then fizzle out at your feet, others never relent and you may not realize that until it's in your face.

The thought of being greeted in Spanish after the name change tickles me. "Hola, Ola." Sounds like it's being said twice. Translates to "Hello, Wave." Which sounds like a command to me. A command befitting my lack of social skills: Hi. Now wave. Or, "Remember to return the greeting in some form or another." Digressions.

My conclusion is that how one encounters the wave depends on the person, not the wave. Ride it? Let it sweep you away? Run from it? Drown? Are you a swimmer? Are you a boat? Do you always maintain a safe distance? Are you afraid? Excited? Prepared? Unimpressed?

On my better days I could say that this means my life is like a beach (bathing suit optional). You can't encounter a wave unless you're by the shore, no? Sure.

Really, we're all waves, right? Walking around crashing into each other with varying degrees of potential and kinetic energy. Some of us just reside in much more turbulent waters than others. Being told I am a person of unpredictable impact is meaningful. Very much so. But it's not necessarily positive. Ask some of the people who know me how suffocating, relentless, and frustrating La Ola can be. Or maybe sublime. Or anti-climactic. Either way though, it's temporary and mostly avoidable for them. Being the wave, however, is tiring. FUCKING TIRING. But we are what we are, from ripples to tsunamis.

I know I'm different though. I feel isolated. As a wave in a lake of fire.

2010-04-02T01:20:00.001-07:00

In light of that last blog, it's crazy that I'm ending my night at 4:30 watching this chick in "Brothers" terrorize Shemar Moore and company bustin her gun in her wedding dress.

Her: "You Complete Me :)" Him: "Completion Is Overrated"

2010-04-01T09:56:00.000-07:00

Saying that getting married destroys a relationship is like blaming the gun for someone being shot dead. The person is to be held accountable. A killer is going to kill no matter what.

That being said, I acknowledge that certain tools make the killer more dangerous, and allow him/her to inflict greater damage.

A person who destroys relationships was doing so before s/he got married. They just have the potential to inflict greater damage within the contruct of marriage (I'm going to call it a 'construct' as we know it in this culture, in this period of time; I acknowledge that it's probably a cultural universal though).

We blame the concept of marriage that we accept...

you know what? Fuck this, lol.

To quote Drake, "What am I doin'?"

I have a paper to write and instead of making sure I get my Master's Degree on time, I'm continuing to publicly lose my mind.

Whatever. Easy.

Revenge Is Best Served With A Side Of Fried Rice - Congrats 5-511!

2010-03-31T13:06:00.000-07:00

So this kid is a little fuckface, like I wanna say, "Hey fuckface, your face is a fuck. How'd you get that face?" And he had what seemed like the major role in the class play. Because I reprimanded him for ungentlemanly conduct in and out of the class, he decided to rehearse in the lamest, most lethargic manner possible. And mind you, he wasn't any good to begin with, but he can read sort of well so I played with what I had in my hand (pause?). Anyhow, after repeated attempts to get him to separate his emotions from his motions (in other words, how he feels from what he does), I'd had enough. His uninspired practice was affecting the whole cast. I had to tell him, "One monkey don't stop no show homey. We can and will prosper without you." I really wanted to say, "One fuckface don't stop no orgy, you little prick." But that probably wouldn't have went over so well once he told the counselor about my methods of motivation. Either way, neither of us believed what I was telling him much, but again, I play with what I have on me (yeah, pause). He perked up a bit once the other students started to shake him off, but he was still trying to stick it to me (fuck it, YOU say pause if it's that important to you).

The day of the show, I guess he decided to call my bluff because he was nowhere to be found. I scrambled to find a replacement; my options were limited to the one kid who could read adequately and make enough inferences to give a plausible performances. So I settled on the African kid with the thick accent, light voice, shy demeanor, and delicate temperament. Like I said, I play with...well y'all get the picture already. To say I had low expectations would be like saying the Kardashians seem to enjoy a little bit of attention - gross understatement. I just decided to leave it all in the hands of the Special Education gods.

And this is where a healthy respect for the unpredictable nature of youth, the so-called "challenged" mind, and life in general comes into play.

Though he never seems to be paying attention too much to much, and was salty ever since I drastically reduced his original role from a main character to a non-speaking one for being cripplingly indecisive, somehow, for some reason, the impromptu African understudy already had all of the fuckhead's lines memorized. He also had a better grasp on how to deliver them than the fuckhead had demonstrated. I was very impressed in rehearsal but he hadn't quite worked out how to deliver his last few lines, which were crucial. Showtime was upon us and everyone arrived after a short delay. We had half-a-packed-library full of students and teachers half-heartedly hoping for a few minutes of fantasy to cut into the Dunder Mifflin-esque facade we call public school there. You could see the staff already ready to slide into spring break where giant weed leaves and Olympic-sized pools of whiskey await. Or not. I said "action" and the kids decided to show me what makes them "special."

Spontaneity of will ruled, as the actors messed up lines but recovered and improvised in a manner that would've made Drew Cary proud and wish he wasn't hosting "The Price Is Right." (Oh wait, have you seen him on that show? He CERTAINLY doesn't wanna be hosting "The Price Is Right." Drew, sir - you are good; you're not Bob Barker good. But I, of course, digress too often). My kids TORE IT DOWN. And the African kid gave a powerfully understated performance that allowed others to shine. The fuckhead would not have been able to function in the midst of such spirited cooperation. To say I was proud is like saying Terrence Harris (aka Mercury) kinda digs the new Justin Bieber song - a severe understatement. The crowd loved it and surprisingly, my craziest kid, the one you can never give any space and opportunity was a hit.

Too bad fuckface won't see his name on the "Student of the Week" certificate which only contained the names of castmembers who showed up. I'll take my revenge wherever I can get it, thank you very much.

Back in the class, we debriefed a bit before I made good on my promise to buy them China food if they showed and proved (oh, hush; like you didn't need a bit of extrinsic motivation at ten years old!). And the African kid raised his African hand and said, "It was like you said, Mr. Collins, one monkey does not stop any show." To which I replied, "Indeed, young sir, one fuckface does not stop an orgy."

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

P.S. For those who remember how we did it at "The Big Idea" event last June at Public Assembly in Brooklyn, BackWards Design is back with that revelry APRIL 29th at La Pregunta, UPTOWN on W. 136 St/Amsterdam Avenue.

"The Big Idea Part 2 Featuring MC/DJ Mercury" and hosted by StarPower will be live from La Pregunta Arts Cafe on April 29th. We have an amazing visual artist/poet/social activist, top-flight hip-hop artists, and the feature himself, Mercury magically transforming between rapper and disc jockey, sometimes within the same song. All hosted by StarPower. Yes, they have given me space and opportunity. Watch what I do with it. Save the date, wait for further details, and Expect Us.

20 Things That Annoy Teachers - Happy Snow Day!

2010-02-10T04:16:00.000-08:00

(*Please feel free to add on anything that may come to mind in the comment space.)

•When you spell something wrong in marker on a sentence strip. (Gotta either throw it out or get McGuyver wit' it. In the name of refusing to trash a perfectly fine task with one spelling mistake written on a sentence strip, I've searched for a matching colored post-it, cut it to a perfect size and pasted it into the offending spot. Teachers can be surgeons like that.)
•When administration tells you they understand what you're dealing with, and still doesn't do anything helpful for you. ("I understand Mr. Collins; maybe you can just try to do the impossible anyway and I'll act like I actually gave you some real form of assistance, hm-k? Thaaaanx.")
•When another staffmember knocks on your door when you're in your classroom alone and it's locked and/or you have the lights off. ("Mr. Collins, did you know your door was locked? You must not want anyone to bother you, haha! So, regarding Daniel's i.e.p...." she says as she pulls up a seat next to the clearly uninterested, marina-clad instructor.)
•When kids take too long to copy shit down from the board? ("What the fuuuuck? Y'all niggas don't got oppososable thumbs or something? Scribble down the cocksucking AIM and let's move the fuck on already. Sheesh.")
•When your students all-of-a-sudden become dumb as fuck during your observation. ("Ok class, don't mind Principal Oblivia, she just came to see how smart you are. Now, yesterday everyone seemed to have a decent grasp on quantum physics. Today, we're just gonna begin with a simple exercise; can someone please tell me the answer to 1+2?" Silence. You repeat the request. Only the dumbest kids has the gumption to go against her "this is a trick question" reflex. "I know, Mr. Collins! The equator?" "No sweetie. I mean like the number one added to the number two equals one of the infinite amount of numbers you could have given me as a possible answer, and not a geographical form. Thanks though.")
•When any kid, especially a boy, cries. For any reason. At any time.
•When the phone rings during your prep and you're nowhere near it. (After rushing over before it stops ringing and scratching your finger on the corner of the little metal door to the box the phone is in: "Hello, Mr. Collins." "Hi, this is the ATTENDANCE office, Mr. Collins; did Tiffany come to school today?" "No, because she actually has some fucking SEEEEENNNSSSEEE!!!!!")
•The territoriality. A school is like Prussia before Bismarck, a buncha sovereign tribes accountable to no one you are familiar with. There's the custodial tribe, the school safety tribe, the sbst tribe, the parent association tribe, the uft tribe, the sped tribe, the para tribe, the secretary tribe...
•Lazy, incompetent paras. It almost makes you think about donating a portion of your salary to your good para, until you realize you think about doing some really dumb shit from time to time.
•The way kids smell after gym and recess. Sometimes, they don't even stink; they just smell like a buncha fucking kids. *gag*
•When parents offer assistance JUST to go on a free trip. I mean, I respect your hustle, but c'mon, all teachers weren't created equal and you can't hustle me baby - "My future's your past, I been there before!" (Hov, 2000, "Streets Is Watchin'"). At least pretend like you have something helpful to offer.
•Meetings.
•When kids ask to use the bathroom. Teachers (or is it just me?) just don't like giving permission for kids to use the bathroom outside of designated times. Maybe because we know what we used to do during those trips down/across the hall.
•Grumpy custodians. ("Oh, did I interrupt your mental fondling of the new Teach For America chick? Isn't it your JOB to hang up my map? Would you rather I ask you for tips on differentiation? Hang up the fucking map before I let E.... piss in the staircase. Again.")
•When the staff bathroom door is obviously locked and someone twists the knob anyway, usually in a violent and obnoxious manner, and then sighs when they realize what was already realized. Next time I'm gonna shout, "Wait, come on in, I'll move over for ya!"
•Conferencing. In my school, unless you have a 1:1:1 class with double preps every day, you can't do any effective conferencing.
•Writing i.e.p. goals. How much bullshit can you write before it starts to destroy your soul (if you still have one of those after doing sped for any measure of time)? A realistic SMART goal: In 10 years, student will be able to re-enter society as a freeperson and have positive interactions with other humans and animals 70% of the time, as measured by facebook statuses, court anecdotals, and probation officer observations.)
•When kids don't hand in permission slips on time. If you are so inclined, you call the home, where the parent, who is laying on the slip if not at work, sounds annoyed with you for asking her permission to do something enlightening for her punk ass son. Guess I'd be annoyed to if a teacher interrupted me with that bullshit RIGHT before Maury revealed the test results.
•Meetings. That's how much we hate them. Because they are NEVER at a time that is convenient for us.
•Begging-ass kids. Nigga don't ask me for seconds if I'm passing out a lil snacks or a lil juice boxes, nahmean? You ain't even finish your first one, and there are only three leftover - one for me, a second one for a kid I don't fucking hate, and one for my para that isn't lazy, haha!

I'm StarPower and I approve this message.

P.S. Again, please feel free to add on in the comment space.

Random House

2010-01-25T10:52:00.000-08:00

Being the pop culture vulture I am, I can't resist any '80s television retrospective of any sort. So I was of course in my glory watching "The Cosby Show," "Saved By The Bell," and "Brat Pack" specials yesterday on the TV Guide Channel (remember when it used to be called "The Preview Guide" and they even had this really goofy rap promo commercial back in the early '90s? - "When I can't decide/I just push a button and check out the Preview Guide..." Yeah, that was lame. But I still remember it! I don't know if that says more about them or me!). So yeah, I'm marveling at how Lisa Bonet has managed to turn that Tragic Mulatto thing into a deceptively solid career, piecing together the reasons Raven Simone is richer than 50 Cent (She gets money my nigga. Disney and Nickelodeon generates swollen pockets for people some of us have never even seen on a screen. When you factor in "Cheetah Girls," "Hangin' With Mr. Cooper," and "Dr. Doolittle," you only begin to understand why she is like the black Olsen Twins {no Nena, I was not taking a shot at her weight - ok, yeah I was, but I was just joshing; I'm sure Merc would beat!), and commending Keisha Knight Pulliam for her nicely-done comeback (which started with Chingy's "One Call Away" video in case y'all forgot). Then they do a small segment on Bill's post-"Cosby" career, which included a show which was creatively named "Cosby," and featured creative casting, such as Phylicia Rashad as his wife. I'm reminded that Doug E. Doug was on that show, and I try to figure out if he's paralyzed now in real life because one of those black actors who had parts in different things here and there throughout the '80s and '90s is in a wheelchair now. Not soon after, my attention span turns to Molly Ringwald (she was hotter than I ever gave her credit for) and Robert Downey Jr. (he wasn't a true Brat Packer, but he's a true overrated loser; that's a rant for another prep period!).

Maybe an hour later I go to Rite Aid to get Cetaphil (gotta keep the face looking youthful), Mouthwash (can't only keep the mouth looking desirable, it should also smell so), and Baby Powder (gotta keep the balls dry and smooth as eggs). I began double-taking because someone looked hella familiar. But he seemed a bit too tall. And this was Harlem (but then again, Harlem is coming up, with more than a few celebrities starting to take up residence in it's overpriced apartments). I said to my wife, way more conspicuously than I thought I did, "Am I wildin' or is that Doug E. Doug?" He mad heard me. She was like, "He mad heard you." I was like, "Yo, we were just watching this nigga. Gangsta." He was certainly taller than I thought he was and not very famous looking at all. But if you've seen "Hangin' With The Homeboys," you know why he will always have my respect. I didn't say anything to him (what would I have had to say anyway? - "Hey, you're you!), but I certainly didn't just play cool like he wasn't who he was. On some level he has to appreciate the recognition, and I had no qualms with providing it. So peace to a black actor who's worked on a sitcom with the great Bill Cosby and has the exact same first and last name. You win for that. And you also win for not being paralyzed when I thought you might have been (I got him confused with Daryl "Chill" Mitchell).

I'm StarPower and I approve this message.

Out To Lunch!

2010-01-25T09:24:00.001-08:00

This is me challenging myself to write a blog in 15 minutes. Not just for the sport of it, but because I need a bit of a release. This is an exercise because during a teacher's lunch break, any number of things can happen. Your 45 minutes is really only 35-40 when you account for settling your class in the lunchroom and preparing your food (although I do both with stunning quickness). At any point, another staffmember can and will walk into your room to ask you something that they think is important enough to interrupt your only solace for. Some teachers feel like as long as we are in the building, we work. I'm not one of those. I've unapologetically carried on (short) conversations with my Assistant Principal in my wifebeater, with Fabolous playing in the background during my lunch break. I refuse to be taken off of my mountain. So yeah, with 10 minutes left, and 5 minutes into this blog, I was just interrupted. But I soldier on, feigning attentiveness, while continuing to bring you this message.

So the real reason I sat down to write this blog was the state of affairs in...no, not Haiti, not the Senate, not even hip-hop. No, the WWE. That's right. You know I'm a huge wrestling fan, and although I don't get to watch it as often, I still keep up with it and right now is a very exciting time with the return of Bret the Hitman Hart (yes, even you know him!) and Hulk Hogan leading the country's only other major wrestling promotion (TNA) into a rehashing of the famous Monday Night Wars of over a decade ago. Now, there's much to talk about there, but my focus is a bit darker. As in skin color. You see, right now, there are some very talented wrestlers in the WWE who are of a darker shade. Everyone agrees that they have star quality (read: they can make Vince McMahon money), but for some reason, they never get the push they deserve. I'm not talking about Mark Henry. That behemoth represents the opposite of everything I'm writing about. He gets pushed for God knows why every year. I'm talking Kofi Kingston (buried in that Orton angle), MVP (they are not listening to the fans), R-Truth (he has size, athleticism, a kid-friendly gimmick that isn't corny; what more can they ask for?), and Shelton Benjamin (c'mon already with accusing him of not committing himself; if a white wrestler had his ability, which is probably the best in wrestling, his commitment would not be an issure - read: Jeff Hardy). So is there another explanation? Is this just coincidence? The same could be said for plenty of white wrestlers, no? Well, of course it can, but then again, white wrestlers are the vast majority. I believe that there are no black titleholders right now, yet the aformentioned wrestlers are some of the most popular and talented workers around. Get with it Vince; let's diversify. Obama appeared on the show a coupla years back, I thought that was progress, haha!

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

He Could Have Called It A "Rod" Complex

2010-01-24T19:04:00.000-08:00

In April 2001, if I'm not mistaken, I spent 13 hours at some kinda NYPD building in LeFrak (many of the details elude me and I hate to be inaccurate but the location and timeline isn't the story here anyway - well, no, it sort of is, I mean, I'm teaching my students setting these days but, you know, I pretty much tell them that if they can't hit the bullseye, no one is gonna begrudge you for giving it a decent shot; but I digress...). I had to show and fill out a gang of paperwork. I had to take a drug test (they cut my hair unevenly and it never grew back the same; the lady was complimenting me on my length {heheh} and promised not to fuck up the snip but we weren't exactly in a salon, feel me?). I had to take a multiple choice test that had somewhere from 900-1100 questions, many repeats. I had to sit in uncomfortable pews for hours at a time and I couldn't really have anything in there with me. I had to speak with an NYPD psychologist who looked like Bob Saget.

He was a dickhead just like Bob Saget is, but in 2001 Saget hadn't yet resurrected his career as a foul-mouthed anti-Danny Tanner (that was his name on "Full House," right? 'Cause I'm not up to googling right now). So all I thought while this guy tried to dissect me was, "This guy reminds me so much of Bob Saget. Except he's a police dickhead." Apparently, with NYPD being a paramilitary organization, Dr. Bob had a ranking equivalent to lieutenant or something. Again, I could be mixing dates and details and information from different situations around the same period of my life, but I'm confident that I'm retelling the meat of it correctly.

So Dr. Bob looked at some things I might've been asked to write about and gave my personal info the once-over. In retrospect, I believe two things significantly affected our exchange: 1. He could tell by my demeanor that I wasn't built for the work I was being screened for. That was what he did for a living. 2. My unwillingness to concede anything intellectually to him during our meeting made him extra hard on me (ever heard "Pause" by Run D.M.C? It's actually NOT about attaching disclaimers to unintentional gay statements).

Oh yeah, I should mention that the whole reason I was there was to be screened to become a School Safety Agent, a public school security guard and peace officer operating under the auspices of the New York Police Department. Maybe one day I'll regale you with tales of our policeacademy training. Peculiar stuff. Anyway, after a tense, mostly one-way conversation, Dr. Bob says to me something to the effect of, "Why should I recommend a guy who, according to the data, doesn't like social situations, doesn't really have any experience with kids, and is obsessed with Heaven and Hell?" I wanted to say, "Damn, you're good Dr. Bob!" He had it right. But. BUT. I didn't think I was obsessed with Heaven and Hell. Although my 21 year old views (which i wasnt shy about sharing) of right and wrong, religion, and the afterlife probably suggested otherwise. Still, we both knew I was gonna get sent through and become a star at the academy only to flounder as an actual SSA (once, I fell to the ground while trying to remove a girl from class who proved to not be very fond of removal, and as I tried to verticalize myself, the girl began to kick me and step on me. I was like, "Hey, that's violent! Those are angry actions! And ladies shouldn't kick." By the end of my tenure I was walking and cursing behind a gangmember in the hallway daring him to make good on his promises to make me not see Christmas. Glad I got out when I did).

I sucked as a school safety agent because in the New York public school system, school security, to a large extent, has to have the mentality of street security (cops) and jail security (correction officers) to be effective, which says a great deal about our schools. Funny thing is, the things I did learn and keep with me have served me well as a teacher. I'm great at crowd control, I don't shock easily, I put safety first, I empathize with the kids' outside-of-school issues, I see the place for the kids and not for theadults, and I can be extremely patient before making an important move and when I commit to making a move I do it swiftly, quietly, and without second-guessing myself. But yeah, back to the NYPD psych and his prognosis.

I guess in light of the wings on my left arm, the "God's Instrument" shield on my chest, the apocalyptic nightmares I used to frequently have, and my affinity for angel/demon imagery, one might say that Lieutenant Shrink was on to something. However, Bob Saget he was not. He was just a dickhead who knew a loon when one walked into his office with an uneven ponytail. (However, wouldn't you have to be a bit "out to lunch" to think that patrolling South Bronx high schools without so much as a puncture proof vest was a good career option at 21? Shit, I was the perfect candidate!) and now I am ruler of the realm of the rejected - Special Education. It all really does make sense.

I'm StarPower, and don't worry, I'll be back to approving messages with greater frequency again in about a month. Expect me.

P.S. - Who's down to see "Legion" with me, haha?!

Reflections On The First Speakeasy

2009-12-31T10:11:00.000-08:00

So, allow me to really paint this picture of what "The Speakeasy" is through my lens. Remember, I often have a different filter (or none at all) than the rest of society, so another perspective (read: a sane person's perspective) or actual attendance (your best bet) would give you a more complete picture, nevertheless...

Cavalier, a rapper and artist who was one of my groomsmen and a fellow member of the most unique and innovative hip-hop collectives whose story has never been told (from the do-it-ourselves award-winning visonary music videos and crazy "how did 6 dysfunctional niggas pull this shit off?" loft parties to the live show foolery, candid blogging, and unmatched/unpolished/uncompromising song displays, The Dugout defined a short era of independent hip-hop in the mid-00s for more than a few fans and artists) invited folks to his home to just "vibe" as they call it. By now you know I'm fond of calling such occassions "trading or exchanging energies." You didn't have to be an artist (or even know Cav, as it appeared) to attend. You just needed to bring and be willing to share your artistic energy. The point was to FURTHER create our own community, not be defined by previously utilized artist spaces and concepts. I particularly felt this because I have long believed that it's NEVER the venue, the theme, or even the performance/display. The most OVERWHELMINGLY important factor is the crowd, the people, and that's what The Speakeasy was true to. Shit, you wouldn't BELIEVE some of the ILLEST shows I've done spitting the DUMBEST shit at some of the crumbiest (or swankiest, but hilariously unsuitable) venues around. Those shows turned out so ill because of the energy the crowd and I gave each other. We came to an agreement that existed irregardless of anything outside if us. We evolved to form an unspoken, unseen bond that brought us both great enjoyment; now, back to The Speakeasy...

So Cav (and his current crew, my comrades/hip-hop sparring partners, The New Rap Order) decided to just invite folks into his bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom in Bushwick, suggest one or two guidelines (a li'l drink/food donation, share a piece if feeling so compelled), and let the rest do what it do. And oh, don't think there are only dudes there. This event (especially the second one) is typically FLOODED with beautiful ladies of all types (this is a CAV event after all, and with Merc guaranteed to be in attendance you know the dimes can't help but attend, lol). Many people knew each other, but then again, I didn't know the vast majority last time and I had a ball. And you KNOW I ain't a social creature. So yeah, Cav and/or whoever was co-hosting (using that term very loosely; no one was there on some "open mic" hosting-type shit, just a li'l facilitation when necessary or when not getting blazed) proceeded to or asked the artists who felt like doing a li'l something to introduce themselves after the drinking, smoking, mingling created an atmosphere of relaxed but eager anticipation. Everyone wasn't able to fit into the performance space (his bedroom, which is a large room located in a spacious apartment in a spacious house owned by his parents, I assume; I once lived in his apartment for about 3 weeks {who hasn't, right, lol) - interesting times), so some just listened from a corner or continued to do what they were doing before. Which was FINE. Everything EASY at the Speakseasy. You had folks playing new joints from boom boxes, guitarists, actresses doing monologues, singers, rappers, painters, filmmakers, chefs, you name it.

And then you had StarPower, aka Mr. Over-Do-It, Mr. Unforgivable, The EmpireMaker, The Anomaly, The Dugout Hitter, Version 1.0, The Colossus, The Red Dragon, The RodFather, The Straw That Stirs The Drink, Sizzle Pizzle.

From spectator to spectacle, I decided to share. My favorite method of performance is when I do something that intimately invites audience members in, unexpectedly (remember "Staff Ace -This Is Your Life!" @ The Tank or the surprise mini-Dugout reunion @ Bruckner Bar & Grill or the porn tape raffle @ the first Loft Party?), so I decided to do a piece I had written that I thought no one would ever hear, because, well, thernowadays no reason for anyone to hear it. I wrote a remix verse to my homey MC K-Swift's (http://www.mckswift.com) underground banger "Nu' Ol' Skool." He didn't request my verse and there was already a remix featuring members from his crew, the aforementioned New Rap Order, including Cav, that I wasn't on. So what better time to do an unauthorized StarP-mix, R-O-D-mix than during a well attended (better than expected, I'm sure) event with all the players there and all eyes on Star. For that extra touch of Rod (pause?) I threw on an African medallion that happened to be sitting on a nearby dresser (clutch) and got into "Swift-mode," movements and all. Like any writer, I felt like it would take repeated listens for the audience to grasp the intricacies of my verse (I wrote the SHIT outta that shit mad quick many months before) but the skill was still evident to them, along with the showmanship, I hope. I wrapped up my segment by doing a cover (really a remake, with new lyrics) of Big Daddy Kane's "I Get The Job Done," another of my ideas I thought would never be performed outside of my shower. But that's what the Speakeasy is about, no limits. Do what you do and we'll watch/listen/participate. Did I get drunk at some point? Probably. Did I get high, even though I wasn't smoking at the time? You figure out how (we ain't talking about contacts alone, either). Come live your own Speakeasy story. Last night's was in The Bronx and it was a totally different Speakeasy experience, which makes sense because each borough is alive with it's own creative energy. Come through in the future to live your own Speakeasy story. I have word future Speakeasies are slated to be held in Harlem, Crown Heights, and anywhere the NRO is welcomed at - your crib, maybe?

'Let It Burn :)

2009-12-20T19:43:00.000-08:00

So I fasted for 9 days. Strictly fruit/vegetable juice, much of it made right in front of me, water, tea, a hint of soy, for 9 days. No food whatsoever. It wasn't hard at all; well, some days were a bit challenging because of social situations I found myself in. And a coupla times, someone at home cooked some bomb shit or Nena wanted me to share a meal with her. But it was way harder to find a right time to stop. It began as a detox I guess, and turned into some sort of cleansing, though honestly, I'm still not sure why I did it. Towards the end I felt really frustrated because after 9 days I didn't experience some great understanding. I'd just lost a good amount of weight, cleared my skin up, re-energized my body, and started sleeping better. For some reason, I felt like that wasn't enough to call the fast successful. I was bugging. It was extremely fruitful (no pun intended), as I reset my palette to desire better foods and proved to myself that I have higher levels of discipline I can access when necessary. It'll take another blog to tell you about the trips I took within while fasting. I was also on a Facebook status fast - one word statuses (although I cheated with short commentary within parentheses). Each one word status revealed my mindstate during that point in the fast. It was a great exercise in being succint.

I feel genuinely renewed finally. I did it for me. There was no announcement and no detailing throughout, beyond my one word statuses. Only a handful of people even knew I was fasting. It was between me and God because I needed authentic renewal with no interference this time. It had to work. Something told me it had to work this time. Every so often I begin training. Sometimes I don't know what I'm training for, but I'll train. I need to prepare for something. And this was some sort of preliminary. Something is changing again. In a way it hasn't since I (painfully) evolved in my mid-20s. '09 is ending in a purifying fire, a good scorch. I'm gonna spend the last 10 days of the year watching it burn with a smile on my face :)

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

This Can't Be Life

2009-12-01T19:30:00.000-08:00

I'm supposed to be involved in, and recognize the plights of A&E and B because their situations are meant to give me the perspective I need to remain my victorious self. A&E have apparently been swindled out of a lot of money by someone who identified 2 lesbian drug addicts as the perfect pair of victims. They now have no place to live. B's mother just passed away and he came home to find the apartment they shared padlocked. He doesn't seem to have family or a way back into that apartment that doesn't involve a difficult dance through the housing courts. He also has no place to live. I guess this is a good time to tell you that I have no place to live either. Well, no, that's not entirely true. My wife and I, in an effort to save enough $ in a relatively short time frame to buy a house/condo, decided to take the risky course of action of not renewing our lease & each staying at our childhood homes. Y'all know how I feel about her (she's a rare creature of another time/place) and of course there is more than just finance involved so this has been a wild chapter of my already sometimes-hard-to-fathom life story, but that's for another blog. So, I don't have my own place for the first time in a decade; I stay at grandma's (for maybe just a few weeks more). Grandma loves me so it's all good for me to crash. I help her out with my teen siblings, keep things in order, give her a li'l green, all that. But A&E seem like they also want to stay at grandma's because if it wasn't for hard luck, they'd have no luck at all. B has asked grandma for a square foot or two at night as well. Needless to say, grandma is not a fan of turning her apartment into a hard-luck hostel. She told A&E and B that although she would like to help, she can't. Their reactions have been to still try to inch in while yours truly was at work/school. A&E and B know each other, by the way, but have no connection to each other beyond their desire to crash at grandma's. They both also have reason to feel like grandma's crib could be the answer to their problems. B and his mother, who have lived upstairs from grandma for 25 years, didn't get along with anyone in the building but grandma. Once B's mother passed away, he only felt comfortable reaching out to grandma. A, you should probably know, is my grandmother's daughter. Yup, yeah. She's my mom. All of this brings me to tonight. I have been uncomfortable here, not because I'm unwanted, but because the change in lifestyle has been more than I anticipated. I often complain about my situation. But as I came home to A&E rushing to handle their business (whatever that may be) in the back room before I got home, and B humbling himself to steal a few moments of warmth in the kitchen, I thought about how even though I've been sort of miserable living where I've been, I'm still in total control of my fate with the ability to go a variety of satisfying directions. I could conceivably get an apartment or room at any point because I have the resources, but I don't because I (supposedly) have a plan I'd like to stick to. I knew I would have it rough but chose what I thought was the best option for my near future and was (outwardly) supported by all the most important people. A&E and B, however, don't have many, if any, other options besides the hoped-for kindness of grandma. They don't have money and the ability to find another situation when things get too sour, that comes with it. I feel for them, but in the grand scheme of what my life is right now, they don't get very much leeway to turn sympathy into accomodations. My grandmother did not want any of them here, but did not want the burden of putting them out, so as they all tried to buy a few extra minutes of free lodging, I modeled man-of-the-house-ism for my teenage brother by swiftly and firmly reducing the population of the apartment by 3. The temperature may near freezing tonight, and the next stop for any or all of them might be a shelter, roof, or basement, but I had no choice but to send them into the night. They couldn't stay here so there was only one place I could send them - someplace not here. Many of the decisions they made long before I was old enough to know what being coldly decisive means, somehow lead to tonight. We all intersected at a time and in a place that none of us - most of all, me - expected to meet at. The difference between us though, is that I get to stay. I don't say that with any satisfaction. If my heart wasn't already a tattered organ being held together by undeserved unconditional love, I'd tell you it broke tonight. I pray God's will is to keep them all warm and safe.

"Believe me, if it was meant to be, it'll be soon" - Jay-Z "This Can't Be Life"

Save The (S)Hero

2009-11-23T12:30:00.000-08:00

If you don't take enough time for yourself, you will inevitably be pretty useless to others, no? The less capable depend on the stronger among us because they know we are not only capable, we're game. It's what we do, we just can't help it. If we can clean it up, and no one else is able/willing, then hand us the broom and make way. Those who need us are often all too willing to let us save them. They often don't care about the price we pay, the internal toll. Yes, it is ultimately our decision to help, and because it is in our nature, there is nothing we can do about that, but those who are being helped shouldn't wait until we ourselves are a lot less capable due to the demands and pressure we sometimes overburden ourselves with, to suggest we step back for a moment.

Having said that, I'm realizing that much of the time, what I'm asking for will never happen. When someone is in a lot of trouble, they rarely ask the savior if s/he is up to the task of saving, especially if the savior offered to save unsolicited. This means it's up to the savior to find time for his/herself, time to get rejuvenated, and to do it without feeling guilty that the helpless may need help while we're away. Because if they need that much help, well then, are we really helping at all? Isn't the greatest help getting someone to help his/herself? If we get burned out, what will the consequences be? What happens when the hero needs saving?

Every Day Is New Year's Day For Someone

2009-11-21T09:55:00.000-08:00

My birthday was on Thursday and few people knew b/c I didn't really mention it as it was approaching or on the actual day. A while back I told my facebook page not to mention it either. Now understand, I'm not one of those people who don't celebrate birthdays and holidays bc at some point in my twenties I decided being enlightened means being a smug contrarian. I don't personally celebrate holidays and birthdays, I can be quite smug at times, and much of my personal stance in life runs contrary to popular opinion. However, those things don't converge to form my stance on celebrating my birthday. I celebrate others' birthdays. Hard. As far as mine is concerned though, I realized a few years back that if I treated every day with the zeal most people reserved for their birthdays, I can be a much happier, more productive person. Why look spectacular on Nov. 19, and just great on the other days when I can look spectacular every single day? Why do (and expect) extra special things for myself on that one day when I can have high expectations and achievements every day? If I can go a li'l harder on Nov. 19, I can go a li'l harder every day. Every day feels like a birth for me. I'm crazy intrigued by the possibilities for progress and excited for whatever unexpected moments may occur. Shit, I even look forward to how I'm gonna turn the losses into wins down the road. The thing I find most awesome about birthdays is the fact that it's your own personal New Year's Day. It's when your new year begins and I give myself the gift of reflection. It's not always a pleasant experience but it is a gift. I don't incite or generate celebration, but if someone else does, at this point in my life, I'm more than happy to join in. I have slowly went from feeling like I don't like to/want to accept gifts, to re-imagining my concept of what a gift is. I guess saying I don't celebrate birthdays is inaccurate; I celebrate everyday, so when my birthday comes around, it just feels like a continuation. My latest thing is having the same enthusiasm for Monday mornings that I have for Friday nights. No weakdays or weakends for me.

Like I said on my other blog (http://t-e-c.blogspot.com/), b/c of my current living situation my attempt at a return to consistent blogging will almost exclusively (I know, that's an oxymoron) be done through my iPhone. So the updates will be no-frills. We're here for the words anyway, no?

The sun was just shining nowhere but on the small corner of couch I was writing at, very intensely. I was annoyed but too lazy to move. After I did I thought, "Awww, look at the sun, trying to get my attention. You gotta sustain life on Earth and be the pulse of the solar system, yet you take time out to acknowledge me and request my attention. What a cute little star you are."

"I call my brother sun cuz he shine like one." - Tical

Quen got me some new Starbucks snacks that ain't even come out yet, some new exclusive shit. I'm mad excited and I feel like Lady of Rage's character from "Next Friday" who was up on the new snacks before they came out.

My red football, I'd never kick you around/
even though u treat me like Charlie Brown/
you Lucy me, when u see me/
like me and u can be something we can never/
why do we endeavor and choose not to sever?/
let's burn it up and turn up the lever/
and then watch it die as we stand together/
and pray to the sky and get high off the embers.

I spent the night of my birthday at a wake, btw. I ain't mad. A lot of life seems to light up around you when in the presence of death. I never called you anything, but I guess Ms. Jean seems most appropriate. Ms. Jean, wasn't that gospel song that Alfred sung (sang?) something else? I was into it, for real. Good stuff. I knew you liked me, I could just tell. I liked you too. I really respect how you went home also. Nena will take care of people and things. I realize my job is to keep her healthy enough to do what she was born to do.

Check this out, I was in front of a building and (stop me if I told u this already, I feel like I might have) and a group of people were outside bc the door was closed and no one answered when they rang the bell. I stood there for about 15 seconds with them then I pushed the door open. None of them decided to try that. There was a time I would have stood there w/o trying it also. What does that say about my personal growth, if anything? Why did it take me 15 seconds to go in?

"Tell me who knows a peaceful place where I can go." - 'PAC

I'm on Twitter, yup. http://Twitter.com/starpower4life.

Too much bad food mixed with too little exercise is gonna start adversely affecting my sexy any minute now. I refuse to be R. Belly. Man can't live on cuteness, swagger, and charisma alone!

I know, I know, who SAYS that? Me BITCH! HA Ha ha...oh man. Shits and giggles man, gits and shiggles.

Yo iPhone, stop trying to correct my niggery. I know what the fuck I be trying to type, b.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

Random

2009-10-22T14:06:00.000-07:00

In my dream last night, I went to Verizon to get my phone serviced and the rep was flirting with me. Even in my dreams I’m full of myself I guess, more so probably. She told me to wait on a different line for the next phase of service; she was really nice, brown-skinned, thick, homely. As I waited on the other line, the service rep over there was very lively; a middle-aged, short latina who was either arguing or joking with the customer in line. The next thing she did was put her face in some sort of pie and smother her face in cream. I thought it was kind of creepy, but everyone found it amusing so I decided that I was just being uptight and loosened up. Then another rep, a young, slim, slightly-stressed looking twenty-something latina started to throw liquid in the air, liquid and then food. At first, it seemed kinda festive, as weird as that sounds. Then it became a bit scary, I don’t know why. I went behind some shelves where I thought the food and liquid couldn’t reach me, but then I started to see it fly overhead. Some people on the side of me were genuinely frightened; I think that’s where my fear came from. I was scared of not being scared enough. I was just thinking all we had to do was walk out, even though I didn’t want to lose my place in line or something, so I was content to just wait it all out for a while. The last thing I remembered before waking up was heading towards the door. It was getting too weird in there, and when that happens in my dreams, I either leave where I’m at or wake myself up. This wasn’t a nightmare, wasn’t a funny dream, an erotic dream or even an interesting dream. Just random.

Living For You, On Your Terms, To The Fullest Extent

2009-10-21T00:44:00.000-07:00

I always felt that I could possibly die one day at the hands of a cop who tries to abuse authority; if ever the case, God will grant me permission to go to Hell and recruit the demons of revenge for glorious payback, I'm sure. I constantly wonder if my thirst for retribution would be worth risking re-entry into Heaven.

We are so conditioned to react a certain way to police and form a particular relationship with the badge and gun, that we sometimes don't see their misconduct as abuse and/or don't think challenging is worth the effort. We literally help them abuse us when we submit to their will in a way we wouldn't to most other people, without at least trying to determine if we don't have to or making an effort to stand our ground. You'd be surprised where assertiveness and/or just expressing, in whatever way works for you, that you will only stand for what jibes with your personal values, leaves you in many situations. Often, it doesn't even take the effort/time you thought it would, and even if it does, the empowerment you feel afterwards, and the nourishment you gave your soul, was worth you letting someone know, "You know what? In this situation, I'm gonna do what I think is right, what I'll feel good about, what is MY WILL, even if it conflicts with yours, b/c what I want in life, however big or small, is just as valuable/important as what you want at this particular time."

This should hold true even when dealing with authority figures who, through sustained interactions with you or those like you, have acquired a skewed perception of their role, a perception you may unfortunately (in my opinion) accept as normal, ok, something you can live with. These words don't just apply to interactions with police, they are just who inspired them. We also experience this dynamic of being unnecessarily submissive to those we feel have some measure of control over us in a given circumstance, at work with supervisors, in romantic relationships, friendships, and even during mundane situations at places like the checkout counter or barber shop/hair salon. Forget about asking, "Where's the spoon?" after being asked, or commanded, to "taste the soup." Some of us, sometimes, can't even bring ourselves to, or haven't learned how, to even ask that question, a question that defines your acceptance as submissive without challenge. Some of us have accepted such a 3rd and 4th class identity that we not only will eat the abusive, manipulative, coercive chef's soup whether s/he give us a spoon or not, we offer our souls up to however much of the poison the chef wants to feed us, whenever s/he wants to feed it to us! Some of us don't only submit to ingesting the poison w/o challenge for whatever reason, we actually submit in a way that suggests we are ready to say "Give me more please" before or without even questioning whether we have should, have to, or need to be tasting it to begin with. I hope that under similar circumstances I am the type to ask "Why should I be tasting this soup/accepting this from you?" or at the very least, "What kind of soup is this?"

My admittedly convoluted, and probably impossible to follow, generation/culture-specific "Coming To America" analogy aside, this way of being requires practice, commitment, acknowledgment of it being an issue, and of course, agreement with it even being a worthwhile personal value or ideology. I CERTAINLY don't behave in the ideal way I described all of the time, maybe (maybe) not even a majority of the time. That doesn't mean I'm not willing to acknowledge, I, we, have "gotta do better."

By the way, this caged Phoenix is not looking for your agreement with it's views or a change in your thought process, at least not at this moment in time. This isn't a persuasive piece (really it isn't, lol). These are just the thoughts of a man who has lived for nearly 30 revolutions around the sun. After 40 or 50 more I may be singing an entirely different tune; in that respect, life is an amazingly unpredictable mixed gift bag with no good or bad, just interesting, items inside. This bird is just singing b/c it had a song it wanted to share, a song it felt so compelled and inspired to sing, it sang (sung?) at 4:30am, even though it doesn't expect to be heard much, and has to be ready for flight at 6am. If you're still listening, is it b/javascript:void(0)c you'd be bored otherwise? Curiosity? You tune in to this frequency from time to time? Oh well, the early bird gets the worm of the rotten apple I guess. Love yourselves and each other folks. Why not? I'll holler. Peace.

The Magnetic Enigma, aka Mr. Unforgivable,
StarPower

Black Card

2009-10-19T09:21:00.000-07:00

She doesn't give me all,
just an unlimited credit line of her,
there's no balance.

One day she may recall me as her downfall,
I'm not real love,
just really good practice.

B@ck 0n My Bull$h!+

2009-10-18T16:13:00.000-07:00

This study break was brought to you by the good folks at Barnes & Noble. As StarPower transitions from teacher (spent the past 3 hours actually planning for the first time all year; actually, for the first time since I've started teaching - I'm talking differentiation [buzzword! Right Ms. W?! Haha!], assessments, test prep, the works) to student (probably gonna spend the next 3 hours bullsh-tting research to an absurd degree; this will eventually secure my graduation from Mercy College's Graduate Program - meaning I will be able to show off my absurd degree for the rest of my life. I don't care that it will be from Mercy, a place Clown College looks down on [actually I hear Clown College is statistically a harder accomplishment than many prestigious institutions of higher learning], I don't plan to have any problems spinning that diploma paper into gold), he takes time to write ridiculously long sentences free of any standard writing conventions whatsoever, sentences that folks with a view of his pc are probably reading right now. Almost makes a fella wanna write something obscene in the name of reverse voyeurism - ("Yeah muthaf-cka. Yeah, I see you seeing me). Whatever....Yo, my life is crazy right now! In some ways it's as annoying as the way the teenagers type their words in a combination of letters, numbers, and symbols ("that R@3kw0n album is..." [you know what, I'm not even gonna try to act like my almost-30 year old ass can speak in that language without doing some sort of field research like watching how my 15 year old sister types in her username, plus, they are NOT talking about "OB4CL2;" forget I even did that right there]). In some ways my life is as annoying as the people who get mad at me for stopping in the middle of the street to look at something when there is NO FUCKING CAR BEHIND ME. What the fuck? Ok, I do it sometimes when there is a car behind me, but I don't really care, and that's what's so great about me. In some ways my life is as great as the fact that I still find endless joy in the fact that I can look at porn on a PHONE. A phone! Peace to the God Obama, on some real sh-t, but yo, whoever made THAT possible deserves the Nobel. Maybe not for peace, but for something fresh. Like, the Nobel For Doing Some Fresh Shit Prize. In some ways my life is as great as that Armani vest I wore a few weeks ago that I can't wear again until probably the birthday party we are throwing in November. You know I like to do sh-t rappers tell me to, so I'ma be on my "all black everything." I'm working on being able to wear black four years straight. I can go 3 HARD days right now. Even got the black iPhone case, nahmean? Nahmeeeaaan, my niggaaaa?! Yeah....

Dear Washington Heights,

I'm coming home again. Maybe we can start again?

Love, StarPower

I'm back in the Heights, back on the couch. Actually, I've never been on the couch. It's not an uncomfortable couch by any stretch, but w/my back and shoulder problems (the weight of the world aint what it used to be, I tell ya!), and the fact that the mice are doing potato sack races by my head each night, make for an undesirable living situation at best. No, the wife isn't there. In the physical. But she's there in my heart and in those pictures I need to take off of my iPhone (my iPhone has been my lifeline for real; no tv, no radio, no pc most of the time, but I do have an app that makes it seem like I'm tossing paper balls into a wastebasket - the sound effects are retarted!). We are taking time to save for .0040 acres and a mule, however hard it might be to find parking for that mule. We don't want pesky rent and utilities to get in the way of our saving, so we are taking a few steps back just to Bob Beamon (Mike Powell even!) forward sometime next year. Hard on the relationship? You bet! Is it the most pressing issue in the relationship? Take a guess....

You might have noticed that I've stopped talking about my work struggles as much in my facebook statuses (statii?). I've turned some sort of corner where I'm not as stressed, truly (not cynically) amused by my students, and just generally in a better mood at work. I've escaped the Matrix (its still the best metaphor in a lotta cases, I won't apologize for the cliche) and I can see it for what it really is. I have control and perspective. Yes, I still get very annoyed sometimes, but that's how me and Merc are built. Merc is also built to take that white girl off of your hands if you don't know what to do with her....Yo, Stafff Ace, that yellow gentleman of Dugout lore, is back in the fold. Welcome back. We're waiting on Just Holla's recording debut. Only 5 or 6 people care about that stuff right now, but that's always how it starts. My laptop is about to shut down from lack of me plugging this bitch in. So this is how it ends. Talk to y'all l@t3r.

-Your Magnetic Enigma (I'll just that over for you there, Mr. Jeff Hardy, until you decide to return to the ring),
StarPower

Today's Song Fo' Dat Ass - "Criminal" by Eminem

2009-09-02T19:57:00.000-07:00

When he was so good! Damn!

"I don't gotta say a word, I just flip 'em the bird/
and keep goin', I don't take shit from no one!"

Damn, that's what I'm talkin' about.

Today's Song Fo' Dat Ass - "Fire Drill" by Junk Science

2009-08-31T14:27:00.000-07:00

Friends of mine who happen to be EXCELLENT, ORIGINAL artists.

StarPower - Like School On A Sunday

2009-08-30T17:29:00.000-07:00

I must be the most awkward churchgoer ever. I show up late and gracelessly move through the pews, inevitably blocking some faithful congregant's view, a congregant who is most likely wondering why I think it's ok to have on Adiddas, jeans, a wrinkled shirt and a white-gold microphone necklace, topped off by a head of uncombed, unshaped-up hair. Guess the chancletas I've been wearin' all summer would bring me a li'l closer to God, as the story goes Jesus wore sandals (that may or may not have been purchased from El Mundo), but my attire would certainly be far down the list of things of reasons why I shouldn't be allowed in anyone's church.

I told my wife I'd fall asleep during service. I can't stay simultaneously still and quiet for longer than 10 minutes without dozing off. I know what would keep me awake and alert, but I'm sure singing the chorus to "Always Strapped" by Li'l Wayne repeatedly is frowned upon in church. The fact that I can't figure out which part of service we came in on, but that I'm willing to stare at and flip through the program with feigned interest and false anticipation of what comes next, means that my eyes are cast downward, the pastor is starting to sound like Charlie Brown's teacher, and black words on white paper are providing a grey background for me to start drifting. It's not all my fault; the sermon is something less than compelling, the amount of aged-estrogen in here is suffocating, and my wife is letting me get away with being...me. 5,4,3,2.....ok, there he goes - nighty-night. The program falls out of my hand, making a surprisingly thunderous sound in this quiet, solemn place, and embarasses her infinitely more than it does me.

I can't find anything in the bible, even with the table of contents. And they don't always read it like it's written. I guess there are all sorts of remixes and mash-ups to this book. I'm not sure when to stand up or hold my arms out or bow my head in prayer or stop looking at the lady's hat in front of me (her sh-t looks like a chandelier, dead-ass, it's white and it has crystals hanging from it - gangsta), so I decide that as long as at least one person (besides me) is not doing what everyone else is, I don't have to either. I don't know any of the songs, because they only play "Why Would You Wanna Break Up" by Mario and "Successful" by Drake on the radio, and I don't buy mixtapes anymore, though something tells me none of the songs in church are on Gangsta Grillz. I really only pay attention when my li'l sister is singing. The drummer, however, piques my interests every now and then with a funky rhythm, inspiring me to practice my lyrics in a really low voice. While everyone else is singing the gospel, I'm mouthing this:

"Knew I was special needs when I given special tasks/

like tryin' to eat through my Hannibal Lecter mask"

No matter how hard I try I can't figure out what comes next. I should have written that verse into my phone. Then again, phone usage is apparently frowned upon in church also. There's a lot of frowning upon going on in the church, from where I sit. I wanna see smiles, like the "Growing Pains" theme song. After I put this $4 into the collection basket (obviously, plates are no longer adequate), I'm off to the mall, where smiles are abundant and the hats are slightly less ornate; a welcome trade-off after 55 minutes of worship that probably pushed me a step or two further from Heaven's doorstep. Still...

I'm StarPower, and I Think I Love My Life.

It's Been A Long Time...

2009-08-28T08:26:00.000-07:00

...Without a fresh blog to step to.

I know, and I'm always aware of this whenever I don't update for a long time. I can reasonably say that during the past year, I took long breaks due to laziness, or just plain losing the battle with my sanity, and not being able to do anything that would remotely help me achieve a more positive state of mind. But I've been anything but lazy the past coupla months. I've been living the blog a lot more than writing it. And instead of getting my "blogger.com" on and hittin' the keys, I've been relating the ups, downs, and arounds of my life through other formats, such as new songs, Facebook notes, pictures, school assignments, and the like. Even the occasional real-life conversation (yes, I do have those sometimes, lol). And I don't feel like any of you grip the edge of your seats waitin to spend precious moments of your life reading about what you may or may not deem to be important moments in mine, but nonetheless, I know you care. And as I advance in years (I'm getting really close to giving my 20s a going away party btw - and what a ride it has been! I would have never thought man, I tell ya; but that's for another blog, another day), I further realize the value of people truly caring for shit. Like really, seriously, actually caring about some shit because it brings some kind of significance to their lives. 'Cause y'all know me, I think that there are too many people walking around pretending to care about shit they really shouldn't give a fuck about, while people aren't giving enough of a fuck about shit they really should be caring about. StarPower, and anything I co-sign, directly or indirectly, operates on the premise of sincerity. Be sincere. About something.

For what feels like the first time since I became a (somewhat) responsible adult, my whole summer has passed w/o one of these moments. I dare to say '09 has been a calmer, equally as productive year though. I rang in '08 helping to peacefully put some Bloods out of Merc's grandma's crib, left the formerly incarcerated kids to go work with the drop-out risks, which seemed lateral, but was really a forward move (they all taught me a lot and I loved them all - Omar: "Just always be yourself, Rod."), somewhere in between I recorded "The Petting Zoo," left it on a free sharing site, went to the Bahamas the next day, and came back to a more buzz than I previously thought I could ever generate, had more contact with social service agencies than anyone should want to, quit my job(s), spent the summer learning the first thing about being a teacher and not much else, had the wedding of her dreams, which made it the wedding of my dreams, did nothing to celebrate my birthday except thank God for this amazing life I think I love, counseled friends/families through issues only b/c I was/am the problem, hypothesis, and the experiment, lost my StarPower and found it again, and closed the year on St. Severin Street, and in front of Notre Dame, doing my version of open-heart surgery in front of the Eiffel Tower, wondering how long before I can came back and freeze away the holidays in France. I've barely left New York in '09, worked the same job all year with no plans of leaving (well, maybe slight plans of leaving, lol) for the first time in a decade, reflected until reflection become something else (what comes next?), been more straightfoward than I've ever been, accepted my just dues w/little false modesty or discomfort with being recognized and decided to try to always go in or don't go at all. Life (most of it) became simpler in that respect - "This needs to be done and I'm either going to do it or not." Maybe this way of thinking, too, shall pass. But it feels good on me right now. The problems are worse than before, but not surprising and I'm better equipped to deal, I guess because I'm always pretty comfortable with my hand nowadays. And I know I am paying/will pay for my sins, including the brand new ones I have created(premorse, PowerLust, etc.), but I'm at peace with the fact that God has simply told me, "Wait for it."

I'm StarPower, and I Think I Love My Life.

Oh yeah...Today's Song Fo' Dat Ass - "Forever" Drake feat. Kanye West, Li'l Wayne, Eminem

Am I buggin', or is everyone goin' crazy over Em's verse just b/c he raps in doubletime? Sorry, but that's special effects. I know that trick. This was my initial reaction after being emailed the joint by Sean (http://cagedtherapy.blogspot.com/):

"could do w/o the paint-by-the-numbers beat disguised as something more interesting, and Drake's robotically cold efficiency. i swear that kid's raps are perfectly put together, and lacking any character or heart whatsoever. hate to be Mr. Expected More, but um, I expected more, lol. i hold the opinion that Em is still nasty, but now just sounds like a good white rapper, no matter what he spits. (what's with his new video, the one with him seriously singin', that has what sounds like Tim fucking McGraw or someone singin' at the end? is that not the perfect song to do meth to? my goodness) i've already forgotten 'Ye's verse and I aint mad at Wayne. one of those cases where 4 ill niggas add up to a mediocre song."

Do I feel any differently after hearing it 20 times on the radio and hearing Angie Martinez rave about it like it was as great as her music wasn't? Not really.

You tell me.

Sumher

2009-08-23T16:54:00.000-07:00

Summer is like a dope chick in a way - hot as hell, you want it to come as soon as possible, it'll be good to you only for a coupla months 'til the next one comes along, when it's around you spend a lotta money, you wanna wear as little as possible, and it makes niggas wanna fight, floss, and fawn. She was really something else this year, but I never expect any less. I'm not sure about regular folks, but teachers define their summers as probably beginning the moment they begin getting drunk at lunchtime on the last day of school (kidding, somewhat!), and maybe ending sometime during Labor Day weekend. Meaning my summer is coming to a close, but the productivity, the fun, the progress, none of it stops. The defining tasks of this summer for me have been the following:

- Trying to get into better shape by running from my house about a half-mile from Yankee Stadium, across Macombs Dam Bridge and back a few times a week (I've lost as much as 10 lbs, but as I type this, I've gained almost all of it back; good thing I'm sexy anyway, I'm committed to "maintenance exercise" and I got fresh tattoos {who says all of that?! like, out-loud?}, including a new one I got inked this summer).

- Distributing music that has been easier to acess, a bit more polished, along with better artwork, and more pop-oriented while still having my quirky sensibilities (I'm pretty sure that no matter what, my tunes will have an underground aesthetic, but the music I've put out lately, whether solo or through collaboration, seems to have a broader appeal if the feedback is to be believed; wait 'til you hear these joints I'm doing w/Scott though - I promise to blow your mind and then help build you a brand new one). Also, working on this new form of poetry I think I've invented, but I probably haven't, and thinking about what it can become one day.

- Working on the intricacies of being a loosely-binded maniac who happens to be married to God's finest instrument (I would be lying if I told you that everything has been bliss, but Sunday marked our 1 year wedding anniversary, and on 9/11, 10 years of being together; the road has sometimes been rough, dark, bumpy, even non-existent {we have decided on doing things we have never known of anyone doing and it has never been anything short of exhilirating and terrifying}, but she is all I have known as an adult and I wouldn't trade my life with her for anything one could imagine).

- Getting my brother (the one I told y'all on Facebook who I paid a surpise visit to a li'l while a go; the one whose graduation will hopefully be one of my greatest accomplishments, and certainly his) and sister (one year younger than her brother, possesses all of the good and bad in me and my mother, and unfortunately has had to be more than a child just like we had to be) to a better place, and ready for what 2009-10 will hit them with. I'll be staying with them for a few months (gonna take a step back to take 10 steps forward during this recession and move in with my grandma, while my wife moves in with her mother, so we can save money and buy an investment property), so along with the never-ending tragedy which is my mother (who I have successfully not let overwhelm my energy this season) and wildcards such as my uncle (who is going through impending divorce) and my long-lost cousin (who showed up out of the blue with a few suitcases and a kinda believable hard-luck story - *love her always though*), and continuing to support my oldest sister's transformation, this next 6 months or so will further display the alchemy of turning losing to winning, victimhood to victory, tragedy to triumph.

Besides that, I almost got kicked out of the graduate school program at Mercy, subsequently the NYC Teaching Fellows, and the school I work at, because I was getting drunk when I should've been getting high, and high when I should've been getting drunk, and doing one or the other when I should've been writing papers. But the good folks at the New Teacher Residency Program realized that they never met a top-flight nigga like me, and decided to give me an A and a B and call it even. Do not believe rumors that I may have humbly requested a reprieve from my kind-hearted professor through gmail, and was forced to do an extra week's worth of papers when the rest of my colleagues were partaking in guilt-free drugs and sexual promiscuity. I performed at La Menta Arts Collective's Inaugural Junta, which I feel is going to grow into just what the young ladies who started it intend it to grow into. Sometimes, you can tell who the people are who really have the will, not just the ability to make something really good happen. I can't call it 100% yet, but even though I hadn't seen these chicks in about 15 years, their sincerity struck me in a way few people I have interacted with in the past 7 years of hip-hopping around the city have. The whole re-emergence of my middle school past (which I never looked to fondly on, to tell the truth, lol) has been a great revelation. Still got a wedding to attend b/c I'm at the age where I'll have weddings/baptisms/showers/christenings/quinceaneras and such to go to for the next 30 years or so. But Summer '09 hasn't finished writing itself quite yet. I mean, it just got hot outside, I'm only now able to enjoy having a few bucks in my wallet, and school doesn't start until..................um, when does school start?

I'm StarPower, and I Think I Love My Life.

Today's Song Fo' Dat Ass - "Dionne"

2009-08-07T18:32:00.000-07:00

This is a great song, created during the Dugout's heyday by an amazing rapper, and a good friend, named Cavalier (www.cavwins.com).

FlashBack: Top 5 Physical Sensations

2009-08-06T19:45:00.000-07:00

I got this homeboy named Staff Ace; a yellow gentleman (in complexion, not character) who speaks in bold declarations, issued in a straightforward, often audacious manner. During a Dugout recording session about 5 years ago, a noticeably uncomfortable member of our crew thought it crucial to our collective prosperity to let the crew know that his bowels howled and he needed to take care of the most urgent matter. This prompted Staff Ace to say, "A good sh-t is one of my top 5 sensations, along with…" he then of course listed the other four. Such discourse proved to be especially stimulating to StarPower, as I have often thought, too, that few feelings can top a good sh-t. Thus, you have the motivation behind today's blog:

StarPower's Top 10 Physical Sensations

Orgasm/Nut Busting: This shouldn't require any further analysis. Clearly 1, it's the Michael Jordan, Wayne Gretzky, Tiger Woods, Muhammed Ali, undisputed champion of physical sensations.

Sexual Activites: Since we don't always orgasm from having sex, I had to make this a separate category which can include anything from oral, fingering, and "just putting the head in," to crazier sh-t like fisting and felching.

Sh-tting: For real. Like, you held it all day, and you got a good magazine and no one to bother you, and a warm, comfortable bathroom. Yeah.

Pissing: I know this is getting really gross, but it's real. Real like a 3 a.m. piss on Houston St., while all the trendsters walk by, after 6,7 Jack and Cokes, hoping you don't get a ticket from the cops who, according to what you told your girl at 2:59 a.m., 'could go f-ck themselves.' Not that I would know much about such.

Scratching: Scratching your head, your nuts, your belly, whatever. Hey, do chicks scratch their tits? Do tits itch? Or are they itch resistant? Just wondering…

Getting Your Hair Greased: I know this from my days of wearing braids, twists, and ponytails (yes, your dude StarPower used to be on his Big Perm sh-t in the early 2000s). Nothing like sitting between your ladies thighs, getting your parts greased (I liked hemp and carrot oil) on a warm summer afternoon while watching "Charles In Charge."

After Vomiting: Not vomiting itself, that's one of the worst feelings. But I feel like Floyd f-cking Mayweather after I liberate the rest of that Jack and Coke I couldn't piss out.

Taking Off Tight Shoes: A guy shouldn't ever really know what this feels like, but I wear a 12 and I've definitely tried to pull of some 11's that just wouldn't look right in my regular size. Not a good idea. When I took them sh-ts off, I felt like I'd spent all day using my feet as car brakes, on some Flintstones sh-t.

Picking Scabs: Don't know why, but that sh-t feels good and weird. I'm talking about a nice gnarly one. Pick it too early and it gets sore and uglier, but give it a slow burn and you got days of scab-picking pleasure.

Punching: This is my theory - God wants us to punch. How many animals can form fists? Exactly. It's our divine duty to punch. Fists are only good for gripping, punching, and uh, fisting. Gripping is useful, but as far a sensation, it's lackluster. Fisting - I won't touch that one (no pun intended). But punching. Punching is just the release we need at times. Just a notch above slapping, which narrowly missed the list.

I'm StarPower, and I approve this message.

"Like Chief say, I need a moment of Zen/'cause I don't wanna go crazy all over again"

2009-08-04T10:51:00.000-07:00

starpower.bandcamp.com/track/crazy-all-over-again

This is pretty much a prequel to "Bring Him Back." It was recorded after "B.H.B." and should be listened to after it, but it actually reveals my thought process before I was ready to broach the topics that come up in "B.H.B." I kind of wrote about the whole experience of visiting the dark side of the moon in reverse. I wrote about my madness as I was slowly regaining my sanity, and reflected on it from the most recent events back to the beginning. The first verse of "C.A.O.A." explains how thinking about my actions and the effects of those actions mentally took me back to that place, and how being able to see clearly showed me how much I lost and how much I was going to have to struggle to win.

The second verse is a lot different. I've always been motivated by these perceived slights. These instances where people express, in one way or another, that I'm not as worthy as I think I am. Sometimes it's really the case, other times I'm making it up and I'm using it to heat up my engine. I don't need this to drive myself as much anymore. It's still there, but I've found new ways to motivate myself. The second verse in "C.A.O.A" is me telling myself to chill out and gain some perspective when faced with these slights. I don't have to go crazy and write a 78 bar freestlye over somebody's beat or go for the jugular during an acapella at a well attended show, lol. I decide that I don't have to keep going "crazy all over again."

The instrumental is my favorite from the mixtape I used to create these songs. The original Beach Boys song is called "Wouldn't It Be Nice," and Bullion mashes it in a way that sounds like someone who has enough control to let a li'l bit of chaos reign every now and again. My version can seem a bit dark, but it's actually a positive song for me, a moment of clarity and maturity in reflection. I believe it's spiritually akin to Brian Wilson's description of "Wouldn't It Be Nice" as "not a real long song, but a very 'up' song. It expresses the frustrations of youth, what you can't have, what you really want and you have to wait for it."

I actually hated the way my voice sounds on this one, and would rarely listen to it after it was done. On an album that is defined by it's raw, unpolished approach, this is one of the rawest. I love it now though. Anyway, give it a listen. If you don't feel it, I'm sure there is something on "The Petting Zoo" that is for you. And remember to spread the word and download the shit out of it.

-StarPower

This Is Why, Rod. This Is Why.

2009-08-01T13:48:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I'm sitting somewhere where other humans are at, and conversation materializes out of nowhere, rarely through any effort of mine. And occasionally these conversations involve me and something about me. I seldomly talk about myself to people I don't have close talking relationships with. I will hardly ever offer unsolicited info about me; but if you ask, I'll gladly tell. For the most part. So, some of these convos consist of someone asking me about my tattoo(s). The "Unforgivable Blackness" of course, b/c my others aren't usually visible. Or a shirt I have on. (I wear t-shirts all year around. I've been obsessed with tees for years, even before it was cool, and there are few things I find more satisfying than receiving a free t-shirt). Or something in that arena. And they'll say something like, "Why'd you get that?" Or "What does that mean?" Or "What made you get that?" And often, those questions are borne out of genuine curiosity, with no judgement implied.

But then there are those times where people are trying to send a message to me through asking questions like that. And I have no desire to give an explanation beyond what pretty much sounds like, "Because a nigga thought it was hot." Which then makes me sound as ignorant as they think I am, adding on to their annoyance with me displaying a shirt or tat they don't approve of. Then they start of series of questions that begin with, "You don't worry about.....?" "What if....?" and "Why.....?"

So really early on in the convo I've already judged whether the person is curious or just wants to express their displeasure with me making a decision they wouldn't. And in my head, the convo is much different. The actual conversation consists of a particular set of exchanges, but the subtext is what's being simultaneously played out in my head. In my head, it goes:

"You're crazy for getting that tattooed on your arms/wearing that in public, and no one with sense, i.e. me, would make such a bad decision. This means I'm smarter than you, I'm worth more, and I matter a lot more than you."

(I begin to speak while brushing the patch of hair on my chin).

"Oh, you wouldn't do this? Because you're you, and I'm me? Ohhh, I see. Different people do and say different things, no?"

And then they don't know what to make of this sudden turn of discourse, and before they begin to try to process what's happening, I continue.

"Does that have to mean what one does is better than what the other does, and that one person is better than the other? I mean, I got a cock like a Pringles can, and I fuck like a werewolf; I'm gonna make the assumption that this isn't the case with you or anyone you know. Does that mean I'm better than you, or anyone you know? No, it doesn't. I probably am better than you or anyone you know, but it's not because of my triumphs of cockery. It's because I have the good sense to live and let live."

In reality, I don't go in quite like that. I give them a quick explanation that lets them know that a full convo about this isn't worth my time, they aren't the first to broach this topic in such a way, and I'm here to drink and possibly see a nipple slip, not talk about this shit.

And then they act polite to me every time they see me in the future, never express an opinion anywhere near controversial when they're around me, and go and complain to Nena about how mean I am when I'm not around, lol.

The next time I see one of those people, and they inevitably ask me the polite, conditioned question, "How are you?" I should reply, "Better than you!"

I'm StarPower, and I think I love my life.

Could I Be So Hooked On True Blood, That I'm...

2009-08-01T09:04:00.001-07:00

...about to order this drink online?

http://trubeverage.com/

Today's Song Fo' Dat Ass

2009-08-01T08:10:00.000-07:00

Nerve

2009-07-30T12:24:00.000-07:00

Out the box, why don’t we be?
In this moment in time, you're followin’ me.
It’s startin’ to rain, outside we go,
Wave to them lames inside the window.

"I Don't Like You Either Li'l Nigga!"

2009-07-29T09:53:00.000-07:00

One click to hear/download/share "Don't Talk"

In 2001, I saw a coming-of-age movie which, as funny and ridiculous as it gets at times, is a masterpiece (in my eyes) of storytelling which will always be a favorite. Yup, I mean "Baby Boy," and yes, I'm serious. A WHOLE lotta niggas I know are "baby boys" like Tyrese's character Jody, and don't even know it. A WHOLE lotta chicks are/have been/will be Taraji Henson's character and don't even know it. It's set in Cali, but it's messages ring true in all hoods. Crazy thing is, the older I get, the more I see it's relevance. Which isn't necessarily a good thing. It's a movie that gets made every generation. "Cooley High," "Boys In Da Hood," and "Baby Boy" are basically the same flick for a few different age groups. I know there's a non-urban (read: white) equivalent, it's just not coming to me right now. These are stories about trying to make "good in the hood" to simplify it for brevity's sake. Charismatic central characters enjoying boyhood with a diverse group of friends, trying to figure out their next moves in life. The interplay that goes on within the complicated black family structure is a prevalent theme also. But that's not what I was getting out of it in '01.

In 2002, my two best friends and I decided that our debut project (a mixtape) as a newly formed group (The Dugout), in our newly formed studio (also The Dugout), would consist of us spitting pure, unadulterated testosterone over beats from two albums that feature some of the best production of the hip-hop's last golden era - "Only Built For Cuban Linx" by Raekwon da Chef and "Doggystyle" by Snoop Doggy Dogg. I wrote a gang of verses for the "Gz and Hustlaz" beat, but as I remember it, and Merc correct me if I'm wrong, we never arrived at a comfortable arrangement. (The word "arrangement" being used very loosely, as we pretty much took the original instrumentals and in absence of that, rapped over whatever {semi}clean loop we could find; vocal arrangements pretty much consisted of who finished their verse first, second, and third). My verses were wholly inspired by Baby Boy, "Dr. Dre 2001," anything Sean Fields said in the Dugout, LOTS of second hand weedsmoke, Calvin Broadus, and an unbelievable amount of arrogance. And as appealing as all that sounds, there just wasn't a place for them on the tape; no need to force the issue.

This is some good-ass bbq music!

Fast-forward 6 years later to a cold winter weekend. I'm writing for the "Petting Zoo," start playing around with some melodies, and I end up digging up these old verses. Match made in heaven (or some place w/less profanity and cock references) for Bullion's hip-hop mash-up beat that samples The Beach Boys' "Don't Talk (Put Your Head On My Shoulder). Perfect for a 2 minute, 20 second song.

You know the verses are old b/c I'm talkin' about my cornrows and french braids, lol.

Fans of sh-t I'm a fan of might notice the refrain mixes a quote from Snoop's character, Rodney, in "Baby Boy" with dialogue from a "Doggystle" skit.

My favorite line:"I aint f-ckin' wit' ya girl, I just call her a lot, haha"

I was so hype when I noticed the vocal sample in the back kept saying, "close your eyes" because it reminded me of the Snoop line which eventually became my chorus.

So, yeah, download the song, and the album. Download the sh-t out of it, like thousands have already, and hopefully, you've discovered some cool new music this summer. This song is bbq music. You're gonna kill 'em when this drops from your playlist at the bbq.

"If I Don't Take Care Of My Brothers, Then Who Will?" - "Rod Only Knows"

2009-07-29T08:40:00.000-07:00

http://www.starpower.bandcamp.com/track/rod-only-knows

I guess that's the defining line in the opening song of my tape. Wesley Snipes says it in "White Men Can't Jump" and I've always wanted to use it, just had to wait 'til it made sense. It went so f-cking perfectly w/the Grand Puba line I used next -

"I don't front on my brothers/I take care of them before I take care of others."

I know a lot of people think rappers are unoriginal when they quote other rappers, but that technique has long existed in all forms of music and literature, referencing great works. Some of the very greatest literary works of all history do this, including the "Declaration of Independence."

Anyway, I don't care enough about other's opinions to...um...um...try to remember what I was saying so I can complete this thought, lol.

http://www.starpower.bandcamp.com/track/rod-only-knows

Besides, when you come up w/lines like, "Rhymes hold weight/like 150something in Broadway/pick a block, I'm sure the simile'll hold up..." then nobody can tell you nothin'. Nada. Funny thing is, Juju from the legendary underground group The Beatnuts quoted this line to me at a show as one he really felt:

"Big-up to all races, but we's the original!"

Different quotes for different folks. I named the song "Rod Only Knows" because I'm so creative I changed a whole one letter in the original song title. Guess which letter, lol. So, yeah, download the song, and the album. Download the sh-t out of it, and hopefully, you've discovered some cool new music this summer.

http://www.starpower.bandcamp.com/track/rod-only-knows

Today's Song Fo' Dat Ass - "Street of Dreams" by Rainbow

2009-07-29T08:31:00.000-07:00

How f-cking good is this song? The wailing guitars, the pounding rhythm, the '80s over-emoting (is that a word?); what more could you ask for?

Today's Song Fo' Dat Ass

2009-07-25T15:23:00.000-07:00

This sh-t was outta control! A classic. This nigga was wild for posing in "Playgirl" too. And no, I aint see it, lol. You can probably spot Diddy, Mary, and Jodeci in early Father M.C. vids dancing, back-up singin' and doing cameos. Uptown had a crazy roster back then, and by the mid-90s, everyone was a star except Father. Still, they don't make 'em like this no mo'.

Had to throw this one in there too, which I actually like slightly better. Features Jodeci:

The Petting Zoo Origins

2009-07-25T12:53:00.000-07:00

A friend/filmmaker/musicman (Shaka King aka Mauby Bitters) e-mailed me U.K. producer Bullion's Beach Boy's/J. Dilla-inspired instrumental mash-up ("Pet Sounds: In The Key of Dee") knowing that I was the one person in the world who could make outstanding, unique songs out of these extraordinary and unsusually short musical compositions.

So a few months later I sat down in front of my computer for about a full workday, and wrote each song. I then took them to the studio, and with the help of Mercury, recorded all of them in about 4 hours. He mixed them the next day, Cavalier (http://www.cavwins.com/) created a cover, and I just decided to hand all of my triumphs, vulnerabilities, and perspectives over to the world with no disclaimers. It all took less than a week to go from creation to dispersal.

The result is a 22 minute album (or mixtape, if you will) that sounds like the soundtrack to someone's very intimate autobiography - mine. Twelve deeply personal, hilarious, inappropriate, emotional, unforgiving quirky narratives. Ridiculous stories, true stories, scathing social commentary, fantasies, braggadocio, reflections, apologies, it's all there with no filter or discretion. The response has been far greater than I imagined it would be, I hope we can continue this movement by telling a friend or a stranger. Y'all just go ahead and download the sh-t out of this album, please. Thank you and peace.

-StarPower

released 16 February 2008

All tracks written by StarPower, Produced by Bullion (http://www.myspace.com/bullionness).

Mixed by Mercury (http://www.mercury.bandcamp.com/).

Recorded at The Dugout.