Joel F

The Brief Statements Blog

Tomorrow is the last day of camp and I haven't taken a single digi picture.

I have a really bad back injury that has affected the use of my entire left leg. In a year's time I switched from sleeping on an air mattress -(remember those awesome blogs from last summer?)- 5 months, to a twin mattress minus box, 6 months, to a wooden futon, 1 month. Because I was living like a man in my first ever apartment my rebellious college attitude stopped me from exhibiting practical sleeping practices. An agitated disk and a pinched sciatic nerve are my consequences to pay. The pain is constant. I often come to the brink of passing out. I'll never say the words, "I Quit." Last Tuesday I picked up a heavenly cloud of a new queen sized bed and threw it in the corner of my room. I’m taking care of the leg too, icing it every night. Hopefully my feeble state, the old man limp, will soon be only a memory.

Marriage is a popular topic lately. I love women in the summa time time time. I've been learning about John Lennon the artist and I know that his marriage was the ultimate symbol of peace. In a time where opposite sides of the prime meridian were at war, a man from the west loved a woman from the east. Therefore I can only conclude that given the period I live in I will have to grab me a nice plump Middle Eastern terrorist woman. She will inspire me about her God and sand and cacti.

There's nothing better than getting in a grove of watching a bunch of commonly themed DVDs. Have you ever watched the entire second season of The Office US in three days or less? Have you ever watched the second season of The Office UK plus both parts of the Christmas special plus bonus features in less than 48 hours? Or what if you are just in the mood for Bruce Willis movies or Star Wars or something? You devote your time to completely absorbing the art. For the next month you know everything. You are a Star Wars master. Every time someone tries to talk to you about movies its Star Wars Star Wars Star Wars. My current binge is the WWE. In order to become an expert some people read newspapers and magazines, some people watch Sportscenter 24/7, and some keep people.com on automatic refresh. Well I am normally a sports chap, and can be considered a voice of authority on the subject in more rooms than this one, but they've been letting me down lately, giving some satisfaction but failing to mesmerize. America is to blame. We have demolished our sports to shit. No respect for a game. We demand to see scoring and are served extra value sized portions every night. Not only does this make sports not exciting but it proves the competitions are fake. The first argument everyone makes when I say I love the WWE is that prowrestling isn't real. Well thanks for trying to poop on my ice cream, but who cares? That's like saying movies aren't real, or anything on TV isn't real. Real isn't the point. Like watching roided out monsters beat the shit out of each other or not, if you let yourself get involved in the action and storylines and drama wrestling is fucking exciting. And wrestling at its best, Wrestlemania, is still the most electrifying event in sports entertainment today. When the PPV is about to end and the curtains are about to close and a new champion is crowned, Good Ol’ JR will be on the call. And in that moment of victory he'll spin a world around you about a boy with a dream overcoming incredible odds to become the champion. He'll cast these stories of wonder and give you goosebumps every single time. Unfortunately the WWE has taken a hit with a wee roids scandal and an inability to retain talent in the company. Still the WWE provides three different wrestling brands (WWF/RAW, WCW/Smackdown, and ECW). McMahon has been able to overcome his companies lack of star power by making sure his audience sees money, a lot of money, in the rest of the show. The WWE has the sharpest laser lights, the biggest titontrons, the brightest explosions, the most extreme music, steel cages and Stone Cold stunners. Respectable entertainment. I've seen Wrestlemania 13-23 and I can say 23 was the biggest thrill to watch. I'll defend the WWE the best I can by learning every nuance of its history as the summer fades out. I may post a blog of why I think The Undertaker is the best wrestler of all time, though The Rock is number one in all of our hearts.

I'm coming home next week. Who's in town?

Exalt Shout Skip Float On

This entry would be best executed as a picture blog but until I get some pictures let's see what I can do with words. I've found something. I want to teach. Teaching is the best way I can justify going to school. It's the only way. To do whatever I can to ensure the things that I have spent time learning are passed on to the minds of others. To spew ideas from across cultures and generations into young spongy minds. To shoot out knowledge in all directions, as I have taken it in. To sing and laugh with the children. To indeed be a God. That is what I was up to earlier this summer. From June 11th to the 22nd I worked as a lab leader at the Emory National Debate Institute. At the end of the session I emoted after having to say goodbye to my children. Every one of them was so hilarious and beautiful - I had made some great friendships and hopefully left a few lasting impacts. I designated the following few weeks to humiliating my body with high doses of summer toxins, and lost my mind plenty of times in KRS-One masterminds, WWE showmanship charisma, and ice cream mushroom sundaes. 7-7-07 was a mother! Today I stood up and rejoined the real world at day one of ENDI session number two!

The institute is a mini debate camp held at a high school called Pace Academy in Atlanta which is about a thirty minute drive from my apartment. It's similar to the debate camps I went to after my sophomore and junior high school years only it's a day camp and all of the students are sixth and seventh graders so I'm really just a babysitter. The kids spend most of their time screaming and running around and hitting each other all tripped out on hormones, but usually about once or twice a day they sit still and open up their brains. That is my cue to stop running around and hitting people and drop super-raw, super-hot nuggets from my debate bible into their skulls. I bless each of them with verbal super powers as we all become a family. Not only will this give them the skills to pay the bills, but they learn to use their words to fight against the man, a cleverness many of them will have to use daily throughout their lives. Last session my co-teacher was the father of one of the girls in our group and let's just say our system of discipline was less than rigorous. This time around I'm more focused and have better direction. My lab partner is a middle aged woman from the south with 5 kids, two boys in the navy. Ya'll know she dropped some knowledge in her day! I'll try harder this time around to document some of the great kids and fun times had at debate camp, perhaps in a pic blog!

KRS-One: Two Poems

Poem I: The Avoider (Michael Borremans painting)

I'm haywire.
My stabbing stick calms the stutters as I poke, poke.
I'm dressed like a pink apple while I slouch in the grass.
I'm the captain of a steamboat ship. Toot toot.
I've got security - songs and spells.
Can turn you right around - relay the ringing bells.
I'll toss a bird into your face with a letter wrapped around its leg.
We'll drink root beer and fire up the wooden keg.
Night pulls up my eyes and keeps me wishing I was good.
I'm a fast rascal with claw hands and shovel feet.
I splatter poison mustard sauce and jump across a creek.
I've got a silver lining that flickers at the moon.
I'll crawl five hundred miles, save the day, and never leave my room.

Poem II: Answer to the Man Who Stops You in the Street

A man stopped me in the street and said,
"Where do you think you're going?"
I said, "I'm just making my way on home."
"Home," he said, "is where you'll never be.
You're alone today, be leaving this place alone."

Well I skipped a step and unraveled my shoelace,
wriggled, and roped the cuff on his wrist.
"Alone," I said, "is what feels true to me.
Been stomping boots through sudden shaking mist,
and mud, and the Earth springing from my path."

I said, "The air flowing out your mug's tear is hollow.
Alone? I have caught you. How about a little give and take?
I've spun you a home with dirt-lace, gravel road crumbcake."
A bungalow of majesty! Greater friends were never made.
With the turn of my shoulder, I left him.