MY LETTER FROM GOD

Dear Gary:

You’re going to hell.

Just kidding!

There are some things I want to say to the world and well, for reasons that only I know, I don’t want to say them directly. So every once in a while, I pick a mortal such as yourself and tell him. Then I watch as he tries to get people to believe him. I get a kick out of this. That Moses and the tablets thing still makes me LMAO!

What’s up with the wars in my name? I don’t condone war. What you probably don’t know is that I’m not against them, either. I don’t do petty organic damage. All that killing and stuff, that’s on you guys. Tell people God ain’t with it and they can stop anytime they like.

Also, Harry Potter. Didn’t like it. None of them. Actually, I don’t like any book. I always know the ending. You see, that’s why I love people. I don’t know where thIs whole Free Will thing is going. It’s exciting, like when Mary Jane dies at the end of Spiderman 4— Oops.

I like reality shows. I don’t watch them, but I think it’s hilarious that people with real lives don’t appreciate how interesting they can be and so they watch the fake real lives of other people. Please tell everyone that the real sin is not enjoying the life I gave them.

Speaking of life. Let's talk about sex. I think it's one of My better inventions and it sure is in demand (Kudos to China). And thank everyone for thinking of Me so much while they do it. Calling out my name loudly is nice. I'm not fond of the cursing right after, though.

And as far as religion is concerned, I just want to remind everyone that you shouldn’t put too much stock in it. Religion is just a process by which you try to understand Me. It is not Me. And it sure isn’t silk robes, smoking purses and stoning women because they showed an elbow in public. Ultimately, religion is just a lot of writing in books and well, you already know how I feel about that.

And finally, the meaning of life: Gilligan’s Island. Everything you need to know is on that show. Although I can’t tell you why the Skipper never lost any weight. Don’t be stupid, don’t be greedy, don’t be seduced, don’t be too innocent, don’t have too much pride and don’t try to turn a radio into a transmitter and you can get off the island.

Well, that’s it and you really are going to hell.

Gotcha again!

Sincerely,

Me Almighty

MY EMAIL FROM SATAN

To: "Hardwick, Gary"
From: "Satan, Prince Of Darkness"
Re: Whasuuuuup!

Dear Gary,

God tells me you’re coming here. Is He joking? I can never tell.

Anyway, just wanted to drop you a line since He did. I know I’m imitating, but as you may have heard, I have Father Issues. Since you posted his letter on Facebook, I just wanted you to tell the people some things about me as well:

I am not some scary monster with hooves and horns and a tail-- okay I do kinda have a tail but there are people with uni-brows and third nipples. And that “Octo Mom? How gross is she?!

Hell is not some fiery pit with writhing bodies, sulfur and demons. We are just in a place where His grace does not reach. It’s kinda like Baltimore or Hollywood with a few more agents. Anyway, it’s fun down here! Our annual "Hellapalooza" is great. We have the Original Sin Olympics, The 10 Commandments Break-A-Thon and a beauty contest where we crown a new Miss Behaving. Then we go to Hitler’s nightclub, which is off the chiz-zain! Did I say that right? I love black slang. Hell, I love black people—taste like chicken. Just kiddin’!

Also, I am not The Great Deceiver, The Father of Lies and all that. I don’t do much of anything. Like God I stay out of it and let you guys do what you want. But I could be lying. If I was a liar then I’d say I wasn’t, to fool you, then again, I’d be telling the truth about lying proving that I wasn’t a liar, but that might be a deception as well....

... Where was I?

Oh yeah, sin. Look all I can really say is, I think things are going my way. Just look at the world. Everybody chooses different names for the same God and then kills you if you disagree! I love it and this suicide bombing business is like butter.

I do have one big beef, though. I’m the guy who made sex fun. Sure God created it but I made it wrong thus intensifying the pleasure. And what thanks do I get? You guys yell out His name. That’s like eating a Big Mac and yelling out “Wendy’s!” So just try it next time. Yell my name when you do it. And hey, I don’t mind the cursing afterwards.

Also, please don’t refer to me as The Devil. The name is Satan. It was an angel name until I got that bad press. Man, you try to kill God one time and suddenly you’re treated like Kim Kardashian at a “smart virgin” meeting. People should know that I am still an angel; I just have a little baggage. I want to make Satan a beautiful name again like Thistle or Dakota Fanning.

And the meaning of life. I know He told you that nonsense about Gilligan’s Island. But come on, we all know that life is the execution of your commitment to God by the use of Free Will, thus freeing your God-like immortal soul to be Reborn into His Eternity.

Or it’s The Brady Bunch. I can’t be sure.

Well, that’s it. I have to go. People are starting to wake up about this whole war business and I have to make sure that no one realizes we all have the same purpose. Man, you have no idea how hard it’s been keeping everyone mad at each other.

Take care and-- see you soon?

Sincerely,

Gilligan, I mean Satan (LOL)

THE DEATH OF SOUL

I used to know what Soul was. It was a spirit, a movement that arose from the history of this nation. Black people were, excuse the imagery, the shadow of America, its conscious and living soul.

Our suffering, our struggle and our victory over oppression gave us an almost spiritual power to understand the heart of man. As the Jews were defined by slavery and exodus and Jesus was defined by his temptation and passion, so were black people by their enslavement and triumph in America.

So, whenever America got too big for its britches, black people were always there to remind everyone of the truth. In our faces was the sin of the past and the debt owed on the contract of humanity. When America became the only nuclear power in the world, the country was brought to its knees by the Civil Rights Movement-- powered by Motown.

Then there was an explosion of black culture. When people wanted to know what was cool, they looked to us. When truth was needed, we were there to tell it. Ali thrilled, Pryor cracked you up and Stevie raised your consciousness. The best of us, the strength, the artistry and most of all, the nobility became quintessentially American.

We had Soul and we were superbad.

Forty years later, we’d lost it.

The lowest level of achievement and behavior now represents the essence of culture. Education levels have fallen, male/female relationships have soured and the black family has been broken into desolate fragments of its former vitality. Artists now sing and rap about sex, getting high and wealth obtained by any means necessary.

Is this the death of Soul?

And if it is, what was the cause? Lets see, persistent and invidious racism, an unaddressed intra-cultural conflict based on color and class, self-hatred, misogyny, homophobia, unattended psychological damage and old-fashioned capitalist materialism. I could go on but really all I would be doing is telling you what I think is wrong and that will prove nothing.

But I do know this: America has changed and not for the better. And the minorities in any country always get the worst of it. But what came first? Did America change us or did we change America? Chicken or the egg? Bush or imperialist stupidity? Now, this is the place where I always have to ask myself: Am I just old? Perhaps I just can’t see the depth in Flo-rida or accept a crumbling family structure as fate, maybe Love and Hip Hop is brilliant and those bikini models on Fox News are goddamned geniuses.

Alas, I am not an old man nor have I lost touch. I’m afraid we fought and struggled and we got the monkey off our backs but maybe we didn’t know how to live without a monkey and so we created new burdens, defined ourselves by them and slipped into the arms of self-destruction.

And before you throw Obama at this issue I will say that I think the First Family has plenty of soul but their mere presence was not enough to save us or lead us back to a path of recovery. We eight years of them as a symbol of something that we may never have again.

So black people killed Soul. Maybe the thing that defines us is no longer connected to culture; perhaps we have fully assimilated and are now just a part of the current decline of America. Or maybe the steroids in Popeye’s Chicken did us all in.

In the end, Soul was too demanding. It set the bar too high because ultimately, the legacies of Washington, DuBois, Malcolm X and Dr. King, asked us to accept the atrocities committed against us as just obstacles and not impenetrable barriers to ascension.

Those great men would have wanted us to go on without guilty ex-masters, without fear, powered only by a love of self, strength of mind and faith in God. But we didn’t and now “L’il Yacty is blasting on your son’s iPhone and he wants to be on a reality show.

So where does that leave us? I like to think that my perception of looming destruction is my lack of understanding a changing society and my fear of the unknown. I sure hope so, because the biggest price may well be paid by our country, which cannot exist without its living Soul.

copyright 2009

THE CRAYOLA CURE FOR RACE

Race Relations Have Always Been A Big Problem For Human Beings And The Solution Has Been Right Under Our Noses For Years.

Recently, everyone has been talking about a “post racial America.” Funny how every time black folks make any gains, people talk about how race shouldn’t matter. Anyway, a  post racial America is easier said than done but I believe the answer is not in some profound place but in a very simple one:

Harry Potter.

I thought about how the books are sent all over the world to fresh young minds to absorb and how many of those minds are influenced by it. There is one word in those books that recurs often:

Dark.

In Potter, we are told of dark wizards, dark magic, dark, marks, dark lord, dark arts and the like. It occurred to me that darkness has always been associated with the negative; or with something generally bad. Black Monday, black cats, and my all time favorite, the Black Death, because regular death is for punks. And remember when you first saw Darth Vader, evil and menacing in that black mask and uniform? I didn’t know shit about this brother, but I knew he was up to no good.

Now we all know that there are light things that are bad and scary, like lightening, ghosts and Wall Street Bankers. And dark things that are wonderful like chocolate, mahogany and Iman.

Image and imagery are two different things. The image of something is the thing itself, what the conscious mind processes as information. The imagery of it is the visual symbolism of what it has come to mean to you consciously and subconsciously. For example, if I see a black cat, my conscious mind sees a cat that is dark in color but my subconscious sees evil, fear and mysteriousness. It remembers that black cats are bad luck, witches pets and the harbingers of death.

Think about what it does to a mind to be constantly bombarded with the image of dark as bad and light as good. Would that mind grow to fear the dark? Would it grow to worship the light? Would a dark person feel ashamed of his color? Would a light person be arrogant with self-appreciation? Now think of the reaction of one human being to another wrapped in the imagery of those contrasts.

Yeah, big trouble.

So what to do? Well, the solution is in the basic Crayola Eight Pack. (I could never afford that 64 Pack with the sharpener on the back. If you had one, I still hate you) We just need to switch the imagery of color! Not a reversal of light and dark because that would only lead to Light Wizards and White Vaders. No, we need to obliterate this dependency on the two extremes. The limitation of two iconic choices is unnatural and has brought us down, just look at Congress.

For example, the Crayola Cure could make pink the color for anything bad in business. “Stocks plummeted on Pink Monday,” or “The recession has cast a pink cloud on the world markets.” Of course, that singer named Pink would have to change her name, but I don’t like her shit anyway.

Orange could be a positive color for all things personal. “The Orange Knight rescued the fair maiden,” or “Luke Skywalker fought with the power of the orangeness of his hero’s heart.”

Green could be a bad color. “The green malevolence radiated from the thing,” or “He contemplated their death with the greenest of intentions.”

Taken to its logical conclusion, changing the image of all colors could solve the race problem by tackling it at its subconscious roots. And that would change things for us all.

Check it out:

Darth Vader swept into the room, his green mask a visage of evil and this long green cape flapping behind him like the wings of a great bird.

Harry Potter took a step back at the sight of him, but he still shimmered with the orange light of his courage.

Vader raised his putrid pink gloved hands to strike and just as quickly Harry whipped out his wand and issued forth a brilliant purple light that struck the green clad Vader like cerulean death, plunging him into the depths of ominous yellow oblivion!

See? Thrilling, descriptive and it doesn’t paint any person or race as inferior.

So, I say we can do it! Let us all embrace the Crayola Cure and begin to change things now.

That’s it and everyone have an orange day.

©Copyright 2010

BRING BACK THE UGLY SINGERS

There was a time when actual vocal talent, a physiological gift separated a good singer from the rest of us who can only croak in the shower and dream. The singers were awesome; their voices were like instruments that defied human capacities. We used to admire our singers for their singular gift and we enjoyed the music out of sheer respect.

So, it occurred to me that many of the old “real” singers were not the most attractive people who’d ever meet. But most people are not attractive. It is the nature of beauty that it is rare and so it only made sense that most of the singers were not pretty. Thank God they were on the radio and you couldn’t see their asses. They lived in our minds and in our hearts where music does its best work.

Still, I watched as girls screamed with delight over ugly men and men grunted sexy approval of women who, without the gift, were just plain homely. I know now that they were more beautiful to us because of their talent. That whole “eye of the beholder” thing was never truer. Then something awful happened.

Music videos.

Michael made a music video called Billy Jean. All of a sudden, how you looked was just as important as how you sounded. The music business now wanted all singers to be as appealing as possible and so the ugly singers started to disappear, replaced by beautiful people who did not have the gift. Technology helped these untalented beauties to sound like their ugly counterparts. Over time, image replaced talent in popular music.

We rebelled. We stopped paying for mediocre CD’s with one polished hit and twelve other tracks of musical defecation. We started borrowing, copying and downloading only the music that didn’t make our ears bleed. The music industry’s profits plummeted.

Hip Hop hasn’t been affected by this phenomenon yet. The rappers are some of the most hideous people on the planet and that’s why their music dominates the landscape.

I never wanted to get old and be one of those guys who complained about how things used to be better when he was young but-- things used to be better, goddammit! And I can prove it. Just watch the singing contest shows, where they have embraced mediocrity and beauty and have a contest to see who can “not sing” the best. Or go to a concert of one of these pretty singers or watch a non-enhanced TV performance and you will hear my proof. THEY CAN’T SING! They are off key, out of sync and just plain awful.

So. bring back the ugly singers.

Bring them back with their, crooked noses, non-perfect features and heavenly voices. We’re sorry! We didn’t mean to push you aside. We were blinded by the perfect smiles, satin skin and silicone implants. Come back to us and we will exalt you again, even if we do have to close our eyes when we listen.

THE FUCK YOU GENERATION

Notice how rude and impolite people are now? Just go to any service business and ask for help. The person working has an attitude as though they are pissed at you for supporting a business that gave them the job they hate.

Meanwhile, banks lie and steal money. Athletes use steroids; authors plagiarize and oh yeah, we were lied into a war that destabilized the entire world.

Everyone has a “get yours at all costs” mentality. I mean people were always competitive but now it seems that we will stop at nothing. And if you feel particularly trapped by your inability to have it all, you kill your wife and unborn baby and blame it on a black man.

There has been a major shift in American society. If the Baby Boomers and Gen-Xers are the “Me Generation.” Then we are living in the age of the Fuck You Generation. Go to school and learn? Fuck you. I want to be famous. Work hard and save money? Fuck you, I want it all now. Be courteous to people? Fuck you—well, just fuck you.

So what’s the cause of all of this, you say? Well, according to scholars, America is in its decline. But we believe that our reign will never end. All the while, our style of life is going out of style, other nations are out-producing us. And at home, we have turned away from scholarship, love, nobility, modesty courteousness and imagination.

Still not a believer? Well, let’s look at the indicators of any great society: its social and artistic icons. We’ve gone from: Muhammad Ali to Mike Tyson, All in The Family to The Simpsons, Walter Cronkite to Katie Couric, Janis Joplin to Britney Spears, Hank Aaron to Barry Bonds, 60 Minutes to American Idol, Stevie Wonder to R. Kelly and Ossie and Ruby to Chris and Rhianna.

I could go on but my head is hurting. And if you read that list and thought “Hey, I love American Idol.” You’re part of the problem.

So have we lost it or am I just old set in my ways and unable to see the brilliance of The Jonas Brothers? I think maybe there’s a pattern here. We are sliding and for the life of me I don’t know what to do about it.

By the way if you disagree with me, well, I think you know my response to that.