.

hello

DCS

Dear Danny,

Who am I? I ask you this seriously. Who the fuck am I? How the hell did you fall in love with me?

Ever since you left me, I’ve rebelled against you, I’ve been looking for something to replace you with, to get rid of that void. Someone to make me as happy as you did and I’ve failed and in return I’ve destroyed what we had.

God, you would hate me, if you knew me and who I was you would hate me. You would feel so upset at what I’ve done and said with other people so close after your leaving but, Danny I want YOU, I wanted to be close to you. To hug you, To shampoo your hair, do you remember that? We made that pact not that long ago but, it seems like it was forever ago now.

Have you forgotten? Was I not GOOD enough for you? Is that why you left me? I did something wrong and let you slip from me and now I’m continuing to do wrong by you because honestly I don’t understand what has happened. How could you come here so quickly and take my heart and then leave me so quickly in the same fashion?

Don’t you know what you mean to me? Meant? Mean? Meant? past tense, present, whatever. Are you out there? Really?

Are you out there reading this now, making me suffer because I did something wrong? Keeping this secret from me? Come back. Just for a moment let me know, just give me that moment. I deserve it.

Ugh, I’m such a hack. I’m copying from Stasia. She always writes to you, she’s such a good friend, she loves you, like you deserve. Why couldn’t I be more like her? Why can’t I honor you that way? How come I’m so fucked up Danny?

Remember what we used to say? Brothers in the fight, <4, all that crap? We were such kids weren’t we? haha. We acted tough but, we found a way to be kids to each other. Frootloop and all those things.

I want to go back to that, I want you to be around, I want you to just lie to me, lie over and over. Or don’t lie just exist again. Hate me if you have to. Tell me all the terrible things i am, call me out, say you’ve been all those people in my inbox just to see if i would go through with it. Post it up in a note, let the world see, do it

DO IT

just come back. That way I know I didn’t kill you. It couldn’t have been me. I would have done anything for you Danny. You were like my…

Where are you? I can’t make sense of this post anymore.

Somewhere in this day you came and hijacked it. I just wanted you to know that I miss you.

I’m a monster but, I was your monster for a little while right? Surely you remember that, that you had me. You, so protective and possessive, and I never minded. You remember that, you can’t forget because you won’t let me forget will you?

Ok no more.

I Love You, but you knew that already.

Just…forget it.

Don’t forget i love you. Just forget I’m pathetic. think of me with the same wonder you had before. I can be that man for you. just give me the reason, come back and I’ll be that man.

On: Personality Flaws

I need one but, I'm afraid I might corrupt him

I never pretended to be an amazingly together person. I like to think that I act with a great deal of logic and kindness but, every so often I can slip into a rage of total foolishness and selfishness. I admit I have flaws in my personality, ones that wish I didn’t have but, nevertheless I do.

Sometimes I can sink into such a dark place that I don’t even know what i’m doing anymore. I scare myself at points, I ignore my responsibilities, I alienate the people I care about and what not.

I give into the beastly feelings of my animalistic ways, i’m no different than any other man, except sometimes I think I’m twice as mad. I can become some mad that i physically cannot find a place of comfort. It’s an inescapable nightmare that haunts me every so often.

It’s as if there’s another person sitting on my chest insisting that my getting up is a criminal offense. I’m incapable of falling in love the right way, I can love but, For some reason I can retain that feeling in others, either I smother them to death or I force a drought upon them.

i didn’t ask to be this way but, I have accepted that this is who I am. I transpose my flaws into my creative writing or use it to attack the problems of my ethical issues. Who better to charge the fight against an immoral than an equally immoral person? I know the animal better than most others will and I can be the one to slay it.

The fatal disease that poison that infects our society and permeates our legal system is the same thing that flows through my veins and threatens to consume me in total. But If I’m strong and can conquer, or at least learn to control it I may have a chance to be the one who plunges the spear in its heart.

I am not a warrior

I am not a monk.

I’m just a man who wants to either tame the monster or embrace it wholly.

 

Twitter.com/KeithBCovington

Facebook.com/Raganork8

On: The Problem With All My Children

As 2 Dimensional as Mario on the SNES

If you ever watched a dying animal you know what the height of pathetic life is. It’s not something you can really help (other than to kill it) and it’s not something you’d feel comfortable walking away from because it demands your attention.

And thus is the story of All My Children. The soap has been on for decades, winding its way through a cultural maelstrom. From race to aids to terrorism to gay marriage All My Children has always stayed on top of the issues and provided unique and sympathetic stories to the current situations at hand.

Being the most “plain” of the soap operas (no regular super cops, or super criminals or spies and whatever) All My Children has always been propelled by characters. Money grubbers, crooks, murderers, fathers, sons, daughters, drunks, junkies, mothers, philanthropist, moguls, psychotic, storytellers and even a couple of bears here and there. These characters are what have kept All My children unique and interesting.

We’ve watched Erica Kane go from young dreamer, to broken rape victim, to high end model, to addicted fiend, to indignant mother, wife, single, wife, single, wife, single and wife again and in each change we’ve learned something about a woman many of us have know for over thirty years.

But recently the soap has seemed to lose its way. It still has its characters (arguably maybe now they have the best roster of characters) From the sultry and possibly psychotic Annie Novak (Lavery, Chandler) to the plotting and cunning Dr. David Hayward, All My Children has a lot to work with and even could pull from older characters to spice it up a bit.

But when Charles Pratt Jr. took over as head writer audiences cried foul. The most frequent argument being that the female characters had all be degraded to shells of people, subservient and not as clever as their male counterpart.

The end of the Pratt Jr. reign followed the death of long time character Stuart Chandler and a sordid Baby’s Father drama involving nearly every character but, primarily: David Hayward, Jake Martin and Amanda Dillion. Admittedly it was some of the same stuff we had seen before but, it was still intriguing.

After Pratt was released from his duties writing the drama of Pine Valley, many fans thought that a fresh perspective would bring about a new and improved look and feel to Pine Valley (couple with a move to L.A. to shoot what could go wrong?)

Sadly it hasn’t turned out to be what most expected and hoped it to be. The characters of Pine Valley have been reduced to mere talking points, a brief look into a common thought from the character followed by some uncharacteristic actions and then onto the next set of characters before repeating the process for 45 of the 60 minutes.

Characters many of us have known for ten, twenty years are suddenly reacting to similar situations in totally different manners. A painful look at writers testing the waters to see what sounds nice on paper doesn’t always apply when acted on a continuous scale.

A great example of character trampling came with the character Aiden Devane. A private detective/spy like character who at the very core of him was benign. Only in Pine Valley because he cared about some of the women, Devane was written as a raving lunatic at the end of his run.

For weeks audience were subjected to him sitting in a padded room attempting to help (or extort?) a mental ill patient that he was (or wasn’t) in love with. Varying with the day Devane was either trying to uncover evidence against Annie Lavery or uncover a way for her to escape. For the first week it offered us some intrigue not being sure but, then after a little while it became very clear that the writers weren’t sure as to what they wanted to present with the character.

And in the end a character who hadn’t lifted a finger to do anything against the women of his life ever, except to protect them from themselves occasionally, kidnaps his ex-girlfriend and holds her hostage against her husband (whom he had a good relationship with too) before being sent to jail.

The end result served as a slap in the face to viewers who like to be treated more than just cardboard cut-outs sitting in front of a television screen. And as bad as that was, we weren’t expecting what was going to come next after Pratt’s leave.

The show as of late has been reduced to watching one story-line repeated endlessly. It’s not as if there’s multiple components to the story, literally the same thing happens over and over again. In one story Adam Chandler Jr. struggles with a lust (and possible love) for his father’s ex-wife (and cousin’s current fiancée) even though he’s married already. Normally this kind of thing is fair-grounds for a soap opera but, it’s been months of the same dialogue being used over and over again.

The guilt he feels in his heart, the burning he feels in his loins. Every episode serves for Him to say to his mistress: “We can’t be together but, I want to”, week after week we hear him say “We can’t be together but, I want to” without and real clarification of the issue. 3 months ago the show was in the same position as it is now.

The writers have forgotten what drives the story FORWARD. Instead they pick one talking point and talk about it at until the viewer is ripping their hair-out or mindlessly speaking the dialogue of the show along with the broadcast.

The characteristic of the characters have been twisted into mere stereotypes, the blending of unique and intricate qualities of characters have been replaced for blatant moments of characters stressing “I AM THE HERO” and “I AM THE VILLAIN!”. There’s little wiggle room to understand the motives for characters other than: He’s the bad guy, he’s supposed to be that way.

In the past characters of pure evil were introduced, with no motive other than to wreak havoc but, they weren’t trying to live in the society, they attempted to use it and control it. Like Dr. Kinder but, the real joy came in characters like Vanessa aka Proteus who was clearly doing wrong but, had an overbearing love for her sons that lead to the death of one of them.

On one hand you hate Vanessa on the other hand you can’t wait for her to be on screen again to see her rationale. Gone is that feeling once you hear a character admit something it stays that way. Black and white is how the lines are drawn in, no one in Pine Valley is complicated, they’re either: simply good or simply bad.

Some characters don’t even have conflicts. Amanda and Jake stand around having sex whenever they can and helping friends but, neither of the characters have anything to do individually. Sometimes they’re asked to participate in unethical actions but, they show absolutely NO conflict, they just go along with it because it’s against  ‘the bad guy’ and that’s what ‘the good guys’  do.

And so before you watch an episode you know what’s going to happen and for what reason and you can’t relate because surely YOU as an actual human being are more complicated than “I do the right thing all the time and hate everything wrong”.

All My Children is a medium in what many consider to be a ‘dying art’. The characters are treated like Adjectives: “loyal” “evil” “righteous” “confused” but, never as a mixture of one and another. So we as viewers get stuck watching the equivalent of literary stick figures but, we know there’s more. We’ve been with most of these character for ten or more years, we’ve seen them grow up, we’ve seen them do bad and good and we’ve seen them wrestle with which was more appealing to them.

That’s why we still watch because anyone who’s watched All My Children knows that the show was founded in greatness and can still achieve that goal if someone would take some time to think of stories that encompass more than one character and present more than one view-point as ‘right’.

But maybe this is the end, maybe the animal is really beyond saving and we loyal fans are just unable to look away because we love it so much still.

Or maybe someone will go to L.A. and whip some of these ‘writers’ into shape!

Facebook.com/raganork8

Twitter.com/KeithBCovington

On: Long Periods Without Writing

You would think that having two personalities in my mind would make me more prolific with writing that’s not the case however. For weeks at a time (sometimes months) I will have nothing of any interest to say about anything. Sure something will happen in that time but, no one really comments on this blog anyway so there’s no reason to share with the world if the world isn’t looking.

Don’t take that as a guilt trip, it’s simple logic.

However on occasion I will think of something I think is important enough to share with the people who do come across my blog, and then I blog. My last blog post are some of the easiest to put down. I love music so sharing my experience with new and/or live music is something that comes easily.

What doesn’t come easily is a way to make the banal routines of my life come alive for you all in this blog.   Writing isn’t a challenge per se but more of a required discipline that I  haven’t totally gotten down. It comes to me in waves, sometimes as small as a tide and sometimes as large as a tsunami.

This doesn’t only apply to my blog  but, also to writing a book or short story, I have to be in a very specific mood in order to get anything down. And even then I tend not to write a whole lot in one day, sometimes I’ll pull our a page or two and be content with that because when the feeling goes…it’s gone.

The frightening thing about writing a blog is that everyone who reads it seems to expect some sort of consistency, I have friends who blog once a month on the same day every month, or vow to blog twice a week or some schedule but, I’m not able to stick to that sort of thing. As soon as writing becomes a ‘job’ so to speak, where I have to worry about getting it down in a certain amount of time or fear the deadline, I lose a boatload of interest.

I know, that’s real life, right? Sure it is and I didn’t say I wasn’t able to do it but, I just said it’s no longer as fun for me. I like to take my time and even be lazy. I spend every waking minute thinking about writing, how I want something to look and how I want it to be presented on the page and whatnot and when I get to the execution I get there.

This blog is more of a twisted therapeutic sort of engine for me to work with, I get to write whenever I want to and share it out to the world. Sure the lack of comments and viewers sometime annoy me but, that’s not really the big issue. The issue is filtering through the packing peanuts in my mind to find the really fragile things and bringing them into some sort of like in reality.

With two people in my mind constantly trying to find a way to appease each other there’s often a lot of interesting stuff that gets cut on the editing room floor. I just can’t express EVERYTHING sometimes, mostly because I think a lot of what I say is common sense, but I’m not a common guy and this isn’t a common world and so maybe I ought to consider getting over my personal misgivings with my writing and just put it out there.

I often have this vendetta against artist, like painters and sculptures and cartoonist; maybe not a vendetta but a jealousy because for them the final product of the art is there and can be beheld with the eye. For me I have to then embark on a new journey to get people to read what has taken me a year to write and thats the hardest part of all.

You would think that people would be jumping for joy over the fantastic like: Dreams and the damaged infrastructure in the mind of a semi-psychotic but, people really aren’t. Maybe they think it’s silly or overly-dramatic but, no one cares that much and in some degrees neither do I. I’m still entertained by very simple things like Soap Operas. I watch All My Children everyday as if it were something that will feed my starving stomach. It’s one of the few things that both my personalities will agree to doing but, who wants to sit here and read about how much I dislike Ryan Lavery or think Marissa Tasker needs to buy a clue.

Maybe someone, I guess but, often I don’t feel like it’s a worthy subject to start ranting about in a blog.

I guess part of me still feels like I’ve stumbled into this writing thing, Like maybe I don’t deserve to even be doing it. I love it though, I just like taking my time as well, maybe if i had an actual job writing I would think differently about it but, as of now I don’t. And even when I worked for my school magazine I waited til submission day to do something and it was still pretty good.

What I need is for someone to take me seriously, seriously enough so that we can work together. I work fine alone but, I think ultimately I feel comfortable if I have someone to bounce ideas off of and craft together with. I’ve been alone all my life so maybe that’s why.

I should write a comic book and work with an artist (maybe that would ease some of the jealousy) and put it out one day. That sounds like it could be a barrel of monkeys!

Now let’s see if anyone’s interested…

Twitter.com/KeithBCovington

Facebook.com/raganork8

On Dreams

Fantasy, Reality? Whose being picky anymore?

I swear I was thinking about this blog post before I saw Inception be-that-as-it-may, you may or may not see some influences from the movie. Whatever seems similar is pure coincidence.

Much like headaches aren’t a normal event in my mind because of the dual (dueling) personalities in my mind, sometimes dreaming is an interesting event in itself. Not all the time though, most of the time of the dreams are banal and of standards pseudo-creativeness but, everyone once in a while sometimes I’ll have a dream that will even somewhat amaze me.

The other day I had a dream about something that I can’t fully explain but, in the dream I was rejected and blame for something that wasn’t my fault, and in a very cinematic fashion I walked off and an orchestra started  playing in the background. Nothing amazing there but, the odd thing was that when the music started playing I, in the dream started thinking of more music. So as this invisible orchestra was playing my walking off music, I was thinking of more, different music.

An odd thing that hasn’t happened to me before in a dream. It was if, for once, the two people in my mind were working quasi-together. Even though music was conflicting it was most certainly as if there was two things happening at once.

When I was young dreams used to be the place where all my wants would come true, around the conception of  ‘Bryant’  they started becoming a place where I would see all the things I didn’t understand, like or believe. I’ve died in my dreams several times, each more unspectacular than the last. There’s nothing like death but, even more depressing is  an uneventful one, or one ironic in circumstance. Something like an ill-fated joke gone wrong, I wake up thinking that my life might be a really strange joke with a non-halarious punch like…like anything Dane Cook says.

I’ve also a series of dreams within dreams, which I think bothered me the most. I suppose Inception did bring this back to my recent memory but, a year or two back I was being troubled by this terrifying nightmares that would keep me up at night and make it hard for me to go to sleep at night. In the most vivid one, I was sleeping alone in my room (the severity of the dream is always determined by the proximity to my room, if it’s in the city, it’s scary, if it’s in the building it’s terrifying, if it’s in the apartment it’s horrifying but, if it’s in the room it’s downright demonic. I mean what sensible person dreams of their own room? Dreams are for escaping not, second hand experiencing.) and suddenly this person begins talking to me and then a moment later begins to scream at the top of its supernatural lungs and pushes me into the bed at its full force.

The sheer volume of the screaming and the force of its pushing me into the bed was so horrifying that it eventually woke me up. Of course when I woke up, the same thing happened again in the same way and now I felt as if I couldn’t trust my own mind, eventually waking up in my bed in the exact same way I would have in the dream.

Usually I forget these things and settle in the quiet anger of my original, skewed psychosis. I don’t believe I’m capable of daydreaming, I consciously ignore and blame it on such but, to think that I actually could be so lost in a thought that my surroundings become blurry in terms of focus. not with two personalities in my mind, one is always looking around, I’m afraid if I ever did daydream I would be stuck, because it would be giving priority over one personality and I don’t think it would ever be willing to let go.

But honestly whose to say what’s a dream and what’s not? Maybe typing this blog is all an elaborate illusion of my brain, giving something to do. Maybe my real life is that ethereal, unfocused world in which I’m constantly berated and die, sounds terrible but, sometimes it’s nice to somewhat all-powerful. Sometimes it’s nice having the ability to look at the world in a totally creative way, without the boundaries of physics.

But that’s probably too much to ask for.

Facebook.com/raganork8

Twitter.com/KeithBCovingon

On Headaches

The Universe Swells.

Sometimes, as my mind is simultaneously thinking about what’s about to happen and what has already been done, I am subjected to headaches.

When this happens, I’m almost totally paralyzed. Yes, a headache to the two minds is like breaking a leg on the one body. Everything stops, I can’t focus, I groan a lot and nothing seems to satisfy me. Even worse today is a cloudy day, the lack of sunlight is really effecting my mood.

Though I’m still in the same state of gratuitous wallowing, the situation seems more bleak and unforgiving today. It’s dark in here but; turning on  a light will knock me to the ground in a fit.

I think Headaches may just be the other part of my brain trying to gain dominance. Sometimes I can hear ‘Bryant’ speaking loudly about things I’m doing right or wrong. As of right now he’s yelling at the television about Jay Behar’s battle with a co-host on the View.

The strange thing is that whenever I get a headache it’s always on the right side of my head, and the muscle hurts. Bryant insist that if it’s a tumor I should name it “Bryant” accordingly. I find that ridiculous, how could I pass up the chance to call my tumor Ahnold?

In the tagline of this blog It says that there’s a universe in my mind, and there is. It’s large and inhabited by an infinite amount of subjects. When the headaches occur I lose track of the different provinces of the universe, when the headache leaves its a manic search for the misplaced ones.

Entire story ideas, lost or misplaced. I’ll be thinking about the Novel and people I knew Maxi Abahlluh from the first grade will suddenly appear talking about the events of 1993.

It’s a complicated matter and It all leads to a lot of sorting out at the end, during the headaches sometimes there’s construction and there’s a whole new city or town in the universe. One more thing to keep track of…ugh.

I hate these things

By the way what kind of self-respecting man can do what Tyler Perry does. I understand getting black actors to work but, making them look like Buffoons with unimaginative, unoriginal and sophomoric scripts is not the way to go.

Anyway, I had a thought I was going to put down but; I got distracted about James Brolin talking about belly dancing kids. oh yeah:

I watched Jaws yesterday, one of my favorite films, Robert Shaw is amazing, just one of the finest under-appreciated actors. His monologue about the U.S.S. Indianapolis is the kind of thing director’s dreams are made of. And Speilberg…I’m not  a big Speilberg fan, I enjoy a good portion of his movies but; I don’t see anything wildly amazing in his director.

Jaws however; breaks that train of thought, there are some amazing visuals and techniques used in Jaws and even though I’ve seen it a good amount of times, I’m always surprised by what I see.

Ugh, by the severity of this beating in my mind, the Donald Trump of my mind is building another tower.

You can find me ( and all my minds) at:

Facebook.com/Raganork8

Twitter.com/KeithBCovington

From The Minds of a Cereal Killer: On Writing a Novel

Let me preface this with: I’m Lazy.

Trying to write this novel has been something akin to getting into a relationship with a person who is perfect one day and then totally wrong the next day. I tried the forceful ‘write everyday’ approach but, that didn’t bring me any pleasure. Now I’m, seemingly, on hiatus from writing the novel. I haven’t written since about the time I was in school and I feel content with not writing until I go back.

there’s something about writing that I just can’t get into if I’m not in the mood. The words will be in my mind but; they won’t come out the right way and so instead of putting out something forced and contrived I prefer not to put anything out at all. When I used to write by hand I would always do it when I was supposed to be doing something else. I wrote in school all the time during class, so much so that it got me into trouble. Sometimes I would write on the train but; I would rarely ever write when I was at home. There was something about sitting in my own apartment and writing that seemed perverse to me, especially if my mother was home. I felt like I was masturbating or something of the like while she was around, it was something I didn’t want her to see.

When I started typing on the computer I found that I had somewhat of a 180. I could suddenly write at home with my mother home (so long as she didn’t cause a constant distraction) but, I would write by hand and then transcribe later, writing the same thing twice NEVER appealed to me.

Now I write in school again just not during class time (well maybe sometimes) and I find I’m able to write a little more thoroughly that way. Still I can’t write for a long duration of time, it takes me quite a bit of time to write a page or two and when I’ve used up the creative juices they’re gone for the day. However the two pages that I get down I’ll be proud of and ultimately will be a good product.

Now the challenge is to get motivated more often, the feeling of plowing through a section of the novel is extremely gratifying but; equal to the horrid, wretched failure of not being able to look at the novel without feeling some sort of dread.

And even though I can’t write every day the story is constantly going on in my head, scenes play continuously, backwards, forwards in slow motion, sped up. I see every ounce of the story in my mind in vivid detail. It’s both amazing and terrible because I can experience the greatness that I’m about to create but; sometimes I simply just cannot place what I see on the paper.

The images run perpendicular to my thoughts so I’m able to think and imagine the story at the same time. It’s rare (extremely so) that I’ll be lost in a trance thinking about the story and not be aware of my surroundings. I can look at the halls of my college and be equally aware of where I am as well as see the halls as any given location in the novel.

It’s like having two TVs in your brain playing different programs at once, both at the same volume and image resolution. Every so often I can see the novel world in front of my eyes but; the images gets stuck as if its missing a piece of a reel. When that happens I’ll often act out the scene playing out whatever characters I have to find what’s most effective and natural. This could go on from a couple of seconds to about fifteen minutes. I’ll talk to myself in the inflection of each character, and i’ll do it several times, over and over until I feel I’ve gotten it right. Of course sometimes this’ll draw the stares and strange questions from stranger who don’t understand what’s going on but; that only helps me put the characters into the real world.

I live in NYC so I take public transportation most of the time but; when I am able to ride in a car to go somewhere and I get out on a highway my mind will completely go into a comparison mode. The peaks and valley’s of the terrain around me become structures in my novel and at any given point I’m able to recall the image, almost perfectly to transcribe.

The ultimate problem is that I’m not able to write as quick as I can think. At any given point of writing this novel I’ll be planning out events that happen two-hundred or three-hundred pages in the future and because I’m not there when I’m writing  I find myself disinterested or dissatisfied.

I have similar problems with screenplay writing and blogging and it’s important to note that nothing I have ever written has come out to my total approval, not even in this blog. Before I start writing I have a particular way I want everything to sound but; when It’s on the page it isn’t the same thing.

There’s more to this and as I write I’ll continue to detail the problems and the joys of writing.

In the meantime please feel free pass this blog on to someone who might not have a chance to read it and feedback is ALWAYS appreciated.

You can read my current novel here

And my collection can be found here: Covington

Again feedback on everything is appreciated

And As always I can also be found on Facebook and Twitter at:

Facebook.com/raganork8 and

Twitter.com/KeithBCovington

Vers le bas avec la monarchie! l’assujettissement du Roi James!

Lebron James…

Just another cog in the systematic nonsense that the American media has to be, hopelessly obsessed with. In the midst of a failing economy, two wars, racial tensions in the southwest and the nations biggest oil disaster of all time, the news is flooded with the reports of who Lebron James will sign with for the upcoming NBA season.

And even though it’s been said an overwhelming amount of times, I can’t help but; exclaim: “Who the Hell Cares?!”

It’s hard for me to imagine, as a reasonably intelligent person, that anyone, even Basketball fans, cares this much about Lebron James. “King James” as he’s called: has been flooding my news stations for the past two weeks with his mulling over what team he’s going to join now that he’s a free agent.

And at first I would say: here we go again, the media is being a twelve-year-old fanatic again but; then ‘King James’ decided he’s going to hold an hour-long event to announce what team he’s going to.

I mean, how pretentious can you get? To think that there are people in the world who take themselves that seriously. Have people forgotten that (despite the fact that he may be good at what he does and that he may be a nice person) he’s only a basketball player? Maybe that sounds a little harsh but; it’s the truth. He’s a basketball player, he will in no way enrich the world with technology or ideology, he won’t find the cure for a disease, he won’t stop wars or rid the gulf of oil. He gets paid millions for throwing a piece of rubber through a hoop.  There’s already something perverse about that last statement but, that’s the kind of sick world we live in. Teacher can barely afford to live in the richness of NYC but, Lebron James can be offered millions with the support of such renown and prestigious artifacts such as Jay-Z, Mayor Michael Bloomberg and others, to potentially come to the city and win (or lose) some games of basketball.

At the end of the day however; someone has refused to take off the 3D, alternate reality glasses. While the world is somewhat wasting away and people are dying of hunger, famine, disease and war. While innocent marine life is being extinguished by BP’s catastrophic oil spill and their simple-minded solution to BURN the oil off (effectively burning all the wildlife trapped in the slipper slick) people are OBSESSED over James’ act of loyalty or treachery.

There are so many ethical oddities in this case of James I don’t even know where to begin. The first would be the designation ‘King James’. Now, as you may know already, I’m not religious  but; it seems very moronic to compare a basketball player with no real discernible credits to advancing the world, to King James.

Now if he was going to slam dunk a basketball into the gulf, effectively separating the oil from the water then I would be all for this. Hail King James if he could do that.

This also highlights one of the many reasons why I hate sports in the first place. On the surface it seems like an outlet for teamwork and camaraderie but; let’s face it, that’s only when you’re contracted to be that way.

James was discovered in Akron, Ohio (we all know how much amazing talent comes from there!) and played for Cleveland and became the pride and joy of a state and city, that has been in desperate economic and social follies for quite some time. And now his aspiration to win some championships has him leaving his home and the people who have been the most loyal and proud of him. It’s a deception that at the very least seems just sad and at the very worse seems purposeful and spiteful. Sure he’s not obligated to stay but, everyone else wants you because you can be used to make them better, your home wants you because your one of them.

And what does this mean now? Now he can play for a new team and make more money, to buy fancy cars that he won’t have time to drive, expensive watches to ignore when he’s late for practices and box seats at the greatest stadiums to watch concerts of artist he doesn’t even really like and can’t see because he’s so high up.

Ah, to live a life of unnecessary luxury, to be cooed by the soft sound of all the dollar bills you can’t spend, rubbing against each other as someone else working two jobs is forced to foreclose on their mortgage because the economy has double dipped.

I often wonder if the second coming actually happens, how will the media approach it? Will it be breaking news? Will my precious auto-toned songs of ‘Glee’ be interrupted?

I’ll probably never know but, if Jesus Christ is coming back I hope he doesn’t do it during a Lebron James Special.

Remember you can always find me at: Facebook.com/raganork8 and/or Twitter.com/KeithBCovingon

3D – America’s New Threat!

“The world is getting stranger”

Well that’s true! Here we are in 2010 the new decade, everything is becoming, smaller, shinier and more ‘efficient’. Our Ipods make calls, our phones play music and our playstations “only does everything”.

And in the midst of the cultural and technological storm we see the resurgence of Three Dimensions! Ah, yes the same technology that gave us Jaws 3D is coming back to take over the world. Now every movie you can find in theaters can be found in “eye popping 3D”, so for all those who have been dying for the next Miley Cyrus movie have her seem actually there…you’re in luck, you can now have three dimensions of unbridle t(w)eenage angst!

But while you’re enjoying the bachelorette on your new 3D T.V. Terrorist maybe plotting against you!

That’s right the new invention of the 3D printer should be scaring you into a tizzy! A printer that can show you your boss’ lunch plans in ‘eye popping’ realness, could be the very thing that the scourge of the underworld has been waiting for for years!

Imagine: a secluded cave in Afghanistan, five men in mask stand over a machine as it pumps and groans out a piece of paper. When it churns out their prize they jump in excitement and standing in their hands is a 3D ticket of ‘Eclipse’!  Their devious plan is almost set, now they can go on the internet and look up bomb making materials and no longer need to use the cpacity of their brains to construct a bomb.

Think of the horror that would have ensued if the times square bomber had printed out the plans for his makeshift bomb in James Cameron realness!? All the pieces would have been aligned and precious American lives would have been lost.

All around the world people would learn which wire stops the timer and which wire detonates the bomb! Hollywood will be unable to create another suspenseful scene again!

3D technology will only help gangs, mobs and terrorist groups all over the world will no longer need to convene their top agents to go over the blue-prints for their doomsday machine. Now and Freddy Freedomfighter and Timmy Terrorist, will be able to see the ins and outs of the trigger that sparks the ammonium nitrate to explode!

Surely you can see the sheer and horrific truth about 3D. While you’re watching Na’vi fight for the freedom of Pandora, some shady eyed saboteur plans your demise with the same clarity as Toy Story 3!

Stop the 3D advancement especially the 3D printers, this July 4th it’s the only American thing to do!

Facebook.com/Raganork8

Twitter.com/KeithBCovington