Decorated Dysmorphism

I've never been good at dealing with the mishaps of life... I always drowned them in a sea of alcohol and self-sedatives to distract myself away from the damages of disheartenment. I favored disillusionment. It's probably the most detrimental way of dealing with life that one can decide to delve upon. At times, you will find yourself depressed and ready to dive head first into an empty pool; The coldness of the concrete diverts the attention to the cause and soothes the soul. Disembodiment is a common fantasy... dreaming of the day that you will free your mind from the entrapment of disappointment that you've grown so accustomed to. Dissuading reality from truth is the directed endeavor of each passing day. Hide forever in the darkness and despair will merely pass you by; Poke your head out and venture once again down the intertwining roads of life, and soon you will find disgruntlement hunting you down like the wounded dog that you are. Rely not on desperation, for even desperate times will leave you defeated and drunk with disgust... It is the never-ending debt detainees of life pay to death.

We Talkin' 'bout Practice Man

With tonight’s NBA draft approaching by the minutes; I'm in the mood to talk some basketball. Growing up in the Greater Philadelphia area, I've been through my ups and downs as a Sixers fan. When I was a kid, I loved the Sixers when we had Charles Barkley running the court and throwing it down with authority. Then they traded him Phoenix, spurring a hatred for the Sixers, the Suns, and Sir Charles.

I was a child who took the moving of all-stars to heart. I was once an Eagles fan in the days of Randall Cunningham and Reggie White, until they were traded away by poor management for guys not fit to carry their predecessor’s jock strap. To this day, I hate the Philadelphia Eagles and I have moved on to brighter days as a Giants fan.

As a true to life fan of basketball, I could not continue hating the Sixers forever. I tried. Believe me. When they drafted Iverson, I was still a hater. I was a larger than life Bulls fan in the 90's... and not because I felt obliged to hop on the Michael-Scotty bandwagon. I had family in Chicago and throughout the time I spent out there I grew a fond love of all Chicago sports teams. Regardless, it took me until I got to see Iverson play in person before I grew appreciation for the little guy with the big heart.

The way Iverson laid it out there on the court like every game was his last impressed me in a way I had never realized before. Michael Jordan was my hero as a kid. He represented the guy who made himself great through hard work and dedication. When Jordan played, he played as if he was a superstar night in and night out. But when Iverson played, he played like he was never going to get another chance to step onto the court again. He played through every imaginable injury a player can deal with and he brushed off practice as if it just didn't matter.

“We talkin’ 'bout practice man.”

He had the mentality of a kid from the streets who was thankful for what he had but never knew how long it would last... how long he would last. It was a sad day when he demanded to be traded because of a coach who had no business being a head coach... especially after the trials and tribulations that transpired during Larry Brown's tenure as the Sixers coach. But Mo Cheeks was the last straw for Iverson and before you had the chance to speak about the situation, he was gone. Traded to a team where for the first time in his career he had to share the spotlight.

Monday morning quarterbacking will show you how that worked out as he was traded twice in 3 seasons to end up in a situation where he wasn't even getting the minutes or the starting rotation in a deep seeded Pistons lineup. Midway through the season, he called it a season because of back spasms. Never before had Iverson quit on his team because of an injury, but the team quit on him. Now, with the offseason in full tilt and blockbuster deals being made sending all-stars across the league, we sit and wonder what will be to come for Allen Iverson this season.

There's nothing I would like to see more than to see AI come back to Philly and put on the "new" retro jerseys and pick up where he left off, flying around the court like the mad dog he is. Ball games are not what they once were in the Wachovia center these days, and if they don't do something to get the fans back into it, it could end up becoming the next rendition of the dark ages for the Philadelphia 76ers basketball franchise.

A Repetition of Mistakes

When will we ever wake up and realize that we are re-living past mistakes? Our constant meddling in the affairs of sovereign nations is further complicating our future and distracting us from the present day problems at home. As we continue to fight undeclared wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, both products of our overly pervasive “War on Terror,” we find ourselves facing military involvement in North Korea, Iran, and a handful of African nations allegedly being overrun by al-Qaeda. There are only a handful of countries across the globe that do not hate us… the rest regularly express their loathing for the mighty American empire.

We once represented something that was so great and powerful that we were taught as children that the world was jealous of us because we were “free.” Unfortunately for the millions of Americans who don’t pay attention to the current affairs outside of the Hollywood spotlight, they still believe that. But for those of us who reject the reality TV era and maintain our ability to process logical thinking, we have begun to understand the repercussions of our hypocrisy abroad and the deceit beseeched upon us on the home front. We are no freer than the socialist French and yet we despise what they stand for as our government strives to attain the same way of life. We promote democracy and invade countries to spread it and yet the invasion itself contradicts the cause we seek.

The hypocrisy is running rampant and only the minority of the population within our borders has the interest to take notice. It’s the way they promote the movement that irritates me. Instead of pointing out the misconceptions, they point the finger in blame. They blame the Republicans for getting us into this mess; they blame the Democrats for the continuation of Republican ways; they blame the media for being biased… the list of complaints and card-turning in the blame game goes on and on. However, it is the people of this nation who are to blame.

Since the 1960s, there have not been any political movements that forcefully represent The People. It’s as if the hope for change that so many people voted for last November died with the last casualty of the Vietnam War. After the fallout of Vietnam and the civil rights movement, people began to disconnect from political involvement. But Why? Why, after all the demonstrations and demands that were heard, would we stop fighting for our say in the affairs of our ruling body? Why the dropout?



Some might say it was the drugs (mainly heroin and other opiates) that caused the activists to falloff into a complacent trance to help them come down from the rush of fighting “The Man.” That may have contributed to it and it may even give the liberty brigade another excuse for the failing movement of grassroots involvement today as drugs are as potent and destructive as ever in this country. There’s even the theory that our government agencies are helping to fuel the fire of drug abuse in this country through a rather sickening form of population control. But once again, it’s more of the same old blame game.

Rather than complaining about the misinformation and distractions being infused into the mainstream, why not direct people to the same information we find valuable and informative in a pure sense? The information is available if you know where to look. The unfortunate scenario that faces us is that the majority does not know where to look and what to look for. With the mainstream media manufacturing consent with each passing day, the “informed” public will continue to support the same detrimental course we have been lead along for some time now, not realizing the path of destruction we leave behind and the repercussions of our ways. With an administration that seems set to adhere to the D.C. political play, it’s going to take a lot more than hope in our new president to really change things.

It seems that things are going to continue the way they were and most likely escalate. The hour glass is running thin as internet censorship and warrantless wiretapping is becoming common place throughout the globe, even in “the land of the free.” Our window for action is still open, but for how long is not known. We must take advantage of what we have available to us. Corporations control Congress and the White House and we must stand up to take them back. We must dig into our history of defending our freedoms to protect our future and the future our children will one day face.

There is a fine line between Fascism and Freedom and we are treading it with clumsy work boots tripping each foot with each careful step. Orwellian tactics are being instituted all around us, slowly closing the steel door of control behind us and locking us into the cold cell of conformity. Some may argue that it is necessary to protect us and keep us safe and secure. These people have lost their way in a dark sea of fear mongering.

Benjamin Franklin once famously stated, “Those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.”

We need a stand by the people, For The People, if we hope to improve modern life as we know it. By focusing on fixing our problems while letting other sovereign nations govern themselves, we have a better chance to rebuild and bounce back setting the example for all other nations who wish to find the way. WE have the structure to make it happen, but we are letting private interest groups block our progression. Let us stand up for what we believe in our hearts and souls, and let us not be denied by those whose pockets stand in our way. Our tax dollars should go back into investing in our neighborhoods and our country, not the countries whose governments fail their people. Let us lead by example, not by the barrel of a semi-automatic rifle.

The Great Irony of Life

The enumerate number of paradoxes that continually peak through the blinds that hang from in the window frames of life will suffocate your happiness if you allow them to. Trust those words.

I haven't been able to keep them away and my sanity is eroding as the days pass by. I'm sure anybody who is reading this can relate with something from their life experiences. You could make good money but passionately hate your job. You could have a wonderful woman or man in your life but your crazy, psycho-delusional Ex- won't leave you be. Whatever it may be, the latter always distracts and distorts the enjoyment of the former. It makes it impossible to fully enjoy yourself in whatever the aspect plagued by the paradox I speak of.

In the recognition and acknowledgement of this Great Irony, one becomes fully engaged by aggravation and exasperation. Trust Me. This is becoming an all-too-common theme in my journey through the years.

I feel as though I can't catch a break in time where I can just sit back and soak in the pure bliss of life. As much beauty as there is in life, I have begun to find the opposing negative aura and it has left me in a state of lethargic existence. The yin yields the yang. The balance of man with the universe is potent with purity and diluted with putridity. True balance. Undifferentiated Tao. Ho-hum!

Positivity is a difficult mentality to maintain but it is absolutely essential to one's sanity. As negativity creeps into your perception, it grows on you like a plague. A bacterium of vileness. Life will no longer be fun anymore. The bareness of misery will take hold and fill you with frigidity the way the cold comes through the Northeast every winter burying civilized living beneath a thick blanket of snow and ice.

Cynicism has been a part of me since I could speak. Call it a birth defect if you wish. I blame growing up around paranoia and pessimism. Regardless, I'm treading water in an ocean without the ability to swim, continually fighting to keep my head above the darkness below. Some days I want to just let go and sink until I exhale my last bubble of life, but I shake it off and tread away hoping to see the lights of a rescue vessel emerge from the horizon.

This may be a dark piece. Some might even say, "a depressing piece." It is what it is. That's the reality of life right now as I sit here typing my way to some sort of peace of mind. By no means am I depressed. I'm thankful for the wonderful joys I'm blessed with. But goddamn the motherfucking yang!

"I'm vacationing on a beach with no sand... tryin' to check to time on a clock with no hands. Feel like I'm gettin' close but I'm nowhere near it... I touch it but don't feel it, listen but don't hear it." - Joe Budden

The Beauty of Night

Allen Ginsburg was a genius with words and the vibes they produced, using them to attack the materialism and conformity that swept our nation by storm years ago. He infused darkness with light with such poetic mystique that makes you appreciate the negativity that produced such radiance. In a time that we can all relate to the obscurity that shadows all the good that life has to offer, we should all take the time to appreciate those who inject beauty into repugnance and embody the illumination of night by the glow of the moon.

"Light up the darkness."

-Bob Marley

The New Dumb

Today, we find a new kind of dumbness circulating around us that is particularly aggravating to all persons with at least half a brain. Dumb, unintelligible people are now boldly attacking those who have the ability to think, learn, and formulate thoughts outside of those being fed through the television screen. What is this world coming to? It’s as if we promote this “New Dumb” by giving these simpletons an open forum to speak and unknowingly embarrass themselves. The worst part is, they don’t realize how foolish they sound.

One half-a-twit had the audacity to tell me to “Learn Something” as if he had any idea what he was even talking about. Not a single point (not even an opinionated point worth arguing) came out of his comment that was entirely intended to offend me because I did not agree with his statement. He lacked the ability to formulate sentences that made sense and used reckless passion as the driving force to express his incoherent retort. I’ve never been more annoyed by stupidity until I was called an “Ignorant Idiot” by a grown man who had the intellect of a 7 year old. Ignorance is not demonstrated by making valid points… Ignorance is demonstrated by assholes that have no understanding of a particular subject and result to CAPITALIZED TANTRUMS TO EXPRESS THEIR DISAGREEMENT WITH A DEFICIENCY OF FACTS.

This was not my first run in with an uneducated person (who actually attends college) that watches Steven Colbert twice a week and thinks he/she is thoroughly up to par with their current events. Sadly, these people are growing in numbers and leaving our country and our world in the shambles of mediocrity. These half-minded fools who absorb information solely through high definition television screens are infecting our standards and lowering the bar for those pursuing a “higher” education. Education systems have gone down the drain since the government took control of it, but I guess that’s to be expected when those in power want to feel more powerful than they were ever intended to be. Regardless, We the People have to deal with these lowered standards and we are left to ponder why the world we know is falling apart through regression. At least we were given “Reality” TV to numb the dead weight that sits upon our shoulders.

The getting was good while it was to be had, but it is no more. We are now descending down the dark side of the mountain where the trek seems destined to be far less rewarding than the ascension to the peak of civilization. Oh how I wish I lived my life already.

The Gutter of American Society

In my town, you can go to Wawa in the morning and even the Mexican landscapers are high on heroin. It makes you think you've lived in New Jersey too long when spotting dope addicts is as natural as spotting a pregnant woman in her third trimester.

For those who have lived outside of the tri-state area all of their life, Wawa is the common ground for the common people. At some point in the week, every local resident makes a stop at a Wawa, whether it be for a cup of coffee, a sandwich, a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk, a pack of cigarettes, a newspaper, whatever. Need to tap the Mac machine? Wawa. There's one just about every square mile it seems, and there's always a handful of people inside, so it's safe to call Wawa the common pool of New Jersey society.

In that very pool of class mixture, one can get an accurate portrayal of the character of that town, with South Jersey having the most diverse of settings. In one town, you get the aura of the inner city projects, while 10 minutes down one road you enter a farmland of hicks, and 10 minutes down another road you'll find yourself parked between a BMW 325i and a Mercedes SLK. Different worlds separated by invisible lines. There is consistency in the lack of consistency in the sense of class structure, but there is a common theme shared throughout the state. No matter what town you live in, no matter what major city is closest, every town has a deep rooted river of drugs that runs right through it.

Most towns are extremely well at hiding it from out-of-towners, but those who live locally know all about it. High schools all around suffer from the problem of an ignorant youth drinking the date rape drug from a water bottle before homeroom, or mixing their own concoctions of drugs into gel caps and swallowing them as they leave their third period math class. Students passing out during the Pledge of Allegiance are common place in South Jersey whether it appears so from the outside or not.

That is why I stole the title of this piece from a friend who described South Jersey as "the gutter of American society." When observing a house from the street, the gutter system is designed and trimly built to look neat and efficient as well as functional, hiding the grime and incestuous muck that flows through it spilling out into the neatly cut blades of grass surrounding the house. There is no better way to describe it.

To understand the causes of the epidemic decline of the once promising farm land with suburban growth potential, one must experience the struggle of the middle class to grow and prosper and even maintain in a state that costs so much money to live and do business. New Jersey has one of the highest cost of living standards in the nation thanks largely in part to the booming standards of North Jersey and its metropolitan location.

North Jersey is New Jersey. It's as if South Jersey is its own state that is forced to suffocate under the shadowing standards cast down by its Northern sibling. Standards that drive our youth and elders alike to horrifying drug habits used to cloak the discomfort and discontent served on a hopelessly rusted platter. You’re only chance at success comes by way of survival, affability, and procreation.

The American Dream is as dead as dead gets here in the Dirty Jerz, so put that in your pipe and smoke it.