An attempt to put into words how much I hate ESPN

It’s not that want anyone to keel over and die, but if Stephen A. Smith were to keel over and die, I’m pretty sure that not only would I not give a shit, there would be a part of me that would be glad.  Yes, that’s a horrible thing to put into writing, but I can’t really say that it would be an inaccurate statement.

Whenever Stephen A. Smith is on television, which is unfortunately way more than he should be, because the retards at my gym have the locker room televisions set to ESPN, and there’s no known way to change the channels without a remote, and First Take seems to be on for eleventy-billion hour blocks at a time, I want to shower and dress out and get out of the locker room as quickly as humanly possible.

Stephen A. Smith makes me want to get away from a screen faster than a snuff film, or any one of those ASPCA commercials with Sarah McLaughlin music in the background.

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The Nubian Queen drives a Honda Accord

I would make a small wager that the woman driving this car, her ancestors don’t even come close to having been from Nubia.  Somewhere throughout time, being “Nubian” had less to do about actually having ancestors who lived along this tiny region in the Sudan, than the fact that the Sudan happened to be in Africa, so it happened to apply to all of those who were of African descent, and then it turned into being a term to replace the word “black.”

The funny thing?  It’s easy to accuse me of simply going to Wikipedia to find this information, but the thing is that I did a report of the Sudan back in grade school, and I actually did remember the region of Nubia.  The capital of the country is also Khartoum, but that’s besides the point.

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Affirmative failure to act upon equality

Instead of bitching about how much I hate PowerPoint again, I thought about the root of the cause for my hatred: I work with people that think PowerPoint is the greatest fucking concept on the planet. When I delve deeper and think about these people, I come to the conclusion that I work with people wholly unqualified, uneducated, and incapable of their positions, which begs to eventually ask the question of how these people got their jobs. And the answer to that, is sadly the easiest to hypothesize.

I recently read an article about how in Fulton County, the current workforce diversity breakdown currently stands at 83% black, 9% white, with the remaining 6% being “other,” AKA Asians and Hispanics. I live in Fulton County. Fulton County is pretty large overall, so these same statisticians saw it fit to isolate and examine just the City of Atlanta, which is within Fulton County. And within Atlanta itself, it breaks down to 75% black, 9% white, and 16% other.

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I hardly knew you, I never met you, but I’m going to miss you

A brief moment of silence for the passing of a place I always wanted to go to, but will never get the opportunity to visit.

Chink’s Steaks in Philadelphia. They’re not actually closing shop, but they’re doing something worse: changing their entire name and identity. They’re going from the obviously offensive, but without remorse or regretful name, with the gritty, blue-collar appearance of most Philadelphia businesses, to a teal-white-and-brown diner-esque identity that makes me cringe with discomfort at their caving to “popular” opinion.

The saddest thing is that I’d never got to have a Chink’s cheesesteak, and as it turns out, I never will.

R.I.P. Chink’s.

Acronym fail, among other fails

I’ve noticed this particular billboard on my way to work in the mornings over the last few days.  Initially, I thought about how much of a failure it was that there was absolutely zero explanation to what “YMCMB” stood for, but considering that we’re in Atlanta, the particular location of this billboard often leans towards blatant black-power messages; I figured it was just another poorly-veiled “black people are better than you non-blacks” propaganda message.

But for what it’s worth, I’ve driven past it enough, and it visually stuck enough to the point where has piqued my curiosity to Google it, so in a way they have gotten a tiny measure of victory from their advertisement.  Unfortunately, it also verifies a lot of what I theorized it was and has subsequently become a topic for me to brog about.

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Too easy

Sometimes, life just serves up softballs, begging to be hit out into oblivion, beyond Albert Pujols versus Brad Lidge territory.

It’s times like these that it’s just so easy, it goes back to that analogy that a hungry lion jumping into a herd of gazelle, but is so overwhelmed by hunger, excitement and adrenaline that it can’t focus on one particular gazelle, and ultimately all of them get away, and the lion is left hungry and defeated.

That’s kind of what happened to me when I saw this image.

How the times have changed

Whenever I walk up to the elevators in my building, sometimes there is an elevator waiting open, and sometimes I have to push the button to call for one.  Regardless of whichever of those is the case, I can fairly easily say that it’s with a majority consistency; the very last elevators in the back of the corridor are the ones I end up having to ride.  I like to call those last two elevators the Rosa Parks elevators; because they’re all the way in the back.

In honor of black history month, it’s time for yet another danny is a racist post, poking fun at double standards and ironic inequality.

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