The Randomness of Me

THURSDAY THROWBACK!

Saturday mornings in my house meant a knock down drag out between my brother and I over which cartoons to watch.

He swung at me to see yet another dumb superhero while I threw punches to tune into Josie and the girls. It was one of the few shows on TV where a little black girl could see someone like her on the tube and Valerie was not only feisty, but the smart one in the group. 

Neat beat a funky song, everybody sing along…

(Source: youtube.com)

Should I tap dance, sing or regale them with my stand up?

Dear Muni Train Driver: It helps to put the stairs down BEFORE you stop & open the doors…

Thanksgiving Finery?

I love my office…yes, this is an giant, floating RC clown fish…

Ok…Fat Cats first…Whose got utensils?!

Ok…Fat Cats first…Whose got utensils?!

Having taught this poem for the past several years, I have to say this Better Book Title is WAY OFF!

While Ginsberg was definitely gay, the heart of the poem lives in its rage against the machine - the desire to not become a part of the Moloch, which for Ginsberg was the move towards a consumerist nation of grinders who do not acknowledge or value difference, or beauty, or or the struggle to become something/different. He talks of being  a part of the disenfranchised, one of the outsiders, one of those whom society deems expendable. It is not about being “As Gay As It Gets” but about claiming a space loudly and proclaiming that you/we belong…so no, this is not a better book title…nope not at all… 

betterbooktitles:

Allen Ginsberg: Howl

Dear Dude Taking The Money For A Big Ass Company That Doesn’t Give Two Figs For You: 1. It’s not your Money and 2. I’d tell you to have a nice day but I’m really hoping you choke on your lunch…

On the train…

I really hope this guy doesn’t, well, you know…(pass gas)…because I will knock over the guy sitting next to me, and it’d be easy, like rolling a drunk, literally…I just hope they both don’t blow at the same time…the guy next to me could hurl at any moment…pic to follow…

Who says rap is dead? Nope, it just rolls on…and captures new listeners and purveyors of the artistry…take this all girl prep school choir who give a mad re-do to Dre’s “Bi***es Ain’t Sh*t. I would bet that back in 1992, these girls’ grandparents banned their kids from listening to this cut…So, no, rap’s not dead…it simply evolves…

Ironic that of all the songs in the rap lexicon they chose one that disparages women…hmmm…that can’t bode well for fourth wave feminism…

betterbooktitles:

Ian McEwan: On Chesil Beach

Reader Submission: Title and Redesign by Maxwell Benwell.