Thursday, December 10, 2009

Friday, December 4, 2009

Black English

ACU Men’s Basketball: A Case Study in Black English
I have played organized basketball since I was six years old and was first eligible to play through a YMCA team.  Because the zoning rules that the YMCA used to create the teams, I was placed on a team that consisted of two Caucasian players and ten African American players.  This was the beginning of my lifelong education in African American Vernacular English (AAVE) (p.195).  I continued to be one of only a few white players on my basketball teams throughout my life.  I have noticed that Black English has the unique ability to remake itself completely in a short amount of time.  The AAVE that I observed when I first joined ACU basketball team is completely different from the AAVE that I observe now.  These changes seem to be fueled by Caucasians and which AAVE slang they choose to adopt into their own slang.  The story of the ACU basketball team demonstrates the quick changing nature of AAVE as well as the motivating factors behind its changes.
                  Despite the changing nature of Black English it does have certain constants.  Over the past four years the basketball team has seen well over thirty different players enter and exit.  Of those thirty, nearly twenty of them were African American.  Each player brought with him a unique set of phrases and words that were common to the area in which he was raised.  The team has seen players from California, Alabama, Texas, Mississippi, and Oklahoma.  The introduction of each new player brought about a complete change and revamp of the teams AAVE lingo.  The teammates adopted certain phrases from each player and created a hybrid of all the different regional dialects.  Of course there were certain constants such as the deletion of coupling verbs in instances where a contraction can be made like in the phrase “They busy” which is the AAVE equivalent of “They’re busy”  (p.198). 
Another commonality was the cadence of the language.  In AAVE the first word or short phrase that is spoken is drawn out longer than it would be in Standard American English (SAE) and is usually in exclamation or interjection spoken with heavy emphasis.  The rest of the sentence is expressed in a normal or slightly faster than normal rhythm.  In the phrase “Yo, who dat is” the word “yo” is drawn out much longer than normal and is followed by a pause that adds even more emphasis and “who dat is” is spoken very fast.  This is the most common archetype for an AAVE sentence and even works with short phrases as the opening exclamation such as in the phrase “My nigga, lemme tell you bout las night.”  This and a few other grammatical and pronunciation differences such as the absense of interdental fricatives and consonant cluster reduction rule (p. 196) were shared commonalities between all the players on the ACU team over the years.
The hybrid language that my African American and even a few African teammates changed over the years, not only at the beginning of each summer when the new recruits were brought in for workouts, but even within the school year and basketball season itself.  Phrases and words were adopted and dropped throughout the year.  The phrases and pronunciation came from a variety of sources; some phrases seemed to be carryovers from the differing regions, but the new jargon that sprouted during the season was often adopted from popular rap/hip-hop songs and “black” movies such as ATL and All About the Benjamins.  Often in rap/hip-hop songs an artist will alter the pronunciation of emphasis of a word or phrase to help it better fit in the rhyme scheme of the song, and the fact that many of the players on my team adopted their lingo from songs facilitated them adopting their unique pronunciations of words.  Lil’ Wayne is one of the most popular and influential hip-hop artists when it comes to the generation of new phrases and pronunciations.  In the song “Swagga Like Us” he says, “No one on the corner has swagger like moi (French pronunciation mw-ah), Church/ But I’m too clean for these boys.”  The word “boys” is pronounced “bois” (bow-ahs) like the French word moi.  This song was quite popular this year and to this day the black members and a few of the white members of the ACU basketball team pronounce the word boy as /bow-ah/.
Another recently acquired element of language among the members of the ACU Team is a couple of different phrases that involve the word subliminal.  The context where the word was first heard was after one member of the team made a subtle jab at two-year teammate Ian Wagner.  Ian responded by saying, “I see you hitting me with that subliminal.”  The phrase and its derivatives, such as “Brooks, I see you getting subliminal,” was then became a common expression to refer to situations when subtlety was used in language or action.  It is most used in situations where humor is in play in the conversation, but it is not bound to that constraint.  It replaced the phrase “I see you coming at me on the sly” which was directed at a person who was subtly making fun of the speaker.
The main reason that the phrase “I see you coming at me on the sly” fell from common usage with my teammates was that it had been adopted and commonly used by a number of white teammates on my team.  They had taken that element of language that was formerly reserved solely for usage for the Black members of the team and had learned how to use it and adopted it into their own language.  AAVE has its roots in the black church that was formed on slave plantations (Baldwin).  He said they did not just acquire a new language, but “transformed ancient elements into a new language” (Baldwin).  Another quote from James Baldwin that helps explains the elimination of words and phrases from AAVE is that “A language comes into existence by means of brutal necessity, and the rules of the language are dictated by what the language must convey” (Baldwin).  He explains that slaves often needed to explain in English that one of their fellow slaves was in danger in such a way that the white man could not understand.  The laws of Black English allow for quick changes in meanings and pronunciation because it allows the language to remain foreign to white SAE speakers.  My teammates dropped the phrases that me and my other white teammates adopted, because it was no longer solely there language.  The heritage of their language had taught them that their AAVE needed to be only for African Americans because its origins were based on self-defense from white people.  The video “black slang” makes fun of this fact in the instance of white American’s adoption of the AAVE use of “brother” to refer to someone who is not family.  The comedian jokes that African Americans had to change to using “cousin” and “son” in the same context because white people had stolen the work “brother” (topgal).
The ACU basketball team is a perfect example of way the Black English or AAVE is able to change and adapt to the point of completely revamping itself in a short period of time.  Rap/hip-hop artists as well as popular “black” movies aid in the generation of new phrases, words, and pronunciations.  As white culture continues to adopt elements of AAVE into mainstream usage the black culture will have to continue to remake its language to keep it solely theirs.  The ACU basketball team has managed to due so despite the increasing ease with which American culture continues to pick up their language.

Thursday, December 3, 2009


Every family has their stories, if they didn’t there would be nothing to talk about during Christmas dinner.  These stories serve a much greater purpose than merely supplying stories to be told around the dinner table.  They give meaning, create identity, they change or uphold the way we look at things.  The complete list of purposes of family stories are too remember, to create identity, to entertain, to reinforce values, and to connect generations.  There are five types of stories that accomplish those purposes: Creation stories, coming of age stories, crisis stories, decision stories, family unity stories, and family identity stories.
            Family identity is passes from generation to generation through stories that usually begin with “My father once told me that his father once told him….” And then go on to give some account of the family history or name.  This one story can fill multiple roles it can entertain, it can connect generations, and create identity.

The Fall
One story that my family is particularly fond of telling is about a rock-climbing incident that occurred a little more than a four years ago.  I had been an avid rock climber since my freshman year of high school.  I owned my own equipment and had a membership at a local climbing gym.  I had a habit of occasionally taking girlfriends with me when I went climbing.  I did this partially because I enjoyed their company and partially because it was an opportunity for me to show off my climbing prowess, and the method had worked well for me until that fateful day. 
The day started off as normally as any other climbing day.  I woke up and had a good, but light, breakfast, gathered my gear, and set off to the gym to climb.  I stopped along the way to pick up my girlfriend at the time, who had been climbing with me several times before.  We planned to make a day of it, by climbing for a few hours before grabbing some lunch, and heading back to get a few more climbs in before closing time.  We arrived at the climbing gym around ten o’clock.
The gym was inside of a complex of four concrete silos.  The top of the silos was painted a rainbow of colors and had the words “General Electric” in big bold letters.  I am not entirely sure what purpose the building served before its days of as a gym, and was not entirely sure I cared.  The gym was separated into four parts.  There was the bouldering area, which consisted of hundreds of holds spread over a wall no taller than twenty feet, this was were people practiced and trained their grips for the various holds.  The next portions was the skill walls upstairs, these walls were not particularly tall at all, most averaged around 50 to 60 feet, but were the most difficult to climb in the whole gym.  Next was the novice area, these were easy walls that were a good place for beginners and were about another 20 feet taller than the skill walls.  The final area of the gym was the endurance walls.  These walls an intermediate level as far the spacing and size of the holds, but were difficult because of the sheer immensity of their size.  The walls averaged a height of 100 feet.  The tallest wall at the gym, which was actually the tallest indoor wall in Texas, was 121 feet high.  It was at this wall that my incident occurred.
My girlfriend was the first to attempt the “121 wall” that day.  I took my position as her “belayer” not even bothering to secure myself into the ground because I outweighed her by so much.  She proceeded to climb about ¾’s  of the wall before growing too weary to continue.  After slowly feeding the rope through the carabiner and belay device, which provided me the mechanical advantage to easily suspend her 130-pound frame using only my thumb and pinkie if needed, and allowing her to rappel down, it was my turn to climb.  We switched all the necessary equipment and double-checked all of our knots and harnesses to make sure they were correct, and then to be sure we checked one another’s.  After we were sure everything was in good order, I began my ascent.
The climb was not particularly difficult for me, for I had made it many times before.  At this point it had become a conditioning climb for me; it was a good way to make sure that I stayed in excellent rock climbing condition.  Because of the rehearsed ease with which I made this climb I did not require any rest of assistance from my belayer.  Fifteen minutes later I reached the top of the wall and was prepared to make my slow and controlled descent.
The trip down was much faster than I anticipated.  After I yelled down that I was ready to make my descent, my girlfriend took all the slack out of the rope so I could let go of the wall and lean back away from it.  I took my hands away and leaned back with no problem or incidence.  I then gave a firm kick with my legs to push myself away from the wall and allow my belayer to let some of the rope slip through the carabiner allowing me to drop.  She did allow some rope to slip through and after I dropped a few yards I expected the rope to go tight and for me to be forced back to the way, but this never happened.  I began to descend faster and faster, which was worrisome, but I was not truly scared until I heard my belayer scream.  I was picking up speed and the ground was screaming towards me now.  Apparently my belayer’s device had malfunctioned and was not longer giving her the advantage needed to control the descent of my 230lb. body.  The rope started to rush through her fingers burning them badly and forcing her to release the rope.  There was nothing stopping the rope now and, by extension, there was nothing stopping me.  The rope as it was being whipped up off the floor tripped my belayer sending her crashing to the ground were she was of no use to me.
I thought my life was over.  120 feet is a long way and I had plenty of time to think things over.  I had decided how I was going to land, what I wanted to go on my tombstone; everything had been thought of.  Then I hit.  I do no remember anything after that.  I woke up in a car on the way to the hospital.  I do not remember what happened at the hospital either.  My parents were informed that I had no serious damage to my back or any major organs, and that the extent of my damage was numerous stress fractures in my feet and legs.  They asked what happened and when my parents told them, the doctors said that I should be dead.
There is a reason that my parents like to tell that story.  They, and I, believe that it means there is a purpose for this family.  I heard that half of all falls from over thirty feet end up being fatal, but I fell from 120 feet and have almost no lasting damage.  There is an identity to be found in this story for me and for my family.  God miraculously allowed me to live when common sense would have dictated that I die.  I feel that he saved me for a purpose and that my family was allowed to continue to exist for a purpose.  That purpose is still not entirely known to me or my family, but we are all very conscious of the fact that we will one day know that purpose.  One day I will know why God chose to save me.  I am reminded of the identity that this story gives me every time that I hear or tell it.  The identity that this story gives me is, that I am a man saved by God, twice.        

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

I Thought Punctuation Ended a Thought

            Located within systems theory is the punctuation theory.  This theory explores the way that actions serve both as responses to former actions as well as stimulus for future responses.  Modern lyrical poet Brandon Boyd had this to say on this subject:
“Hey what would it mean to you?
To know that it’ll come back around again
Hey whatever it means to you
Know that everything moves in circles
Round and round we go
We could know when it ends so well
We fall on and we fall off
Existential carousel”
The song is called circles and it deals with reciprocity and how every person’s actions and every action directed at them brings future responses, which keeps the “existential carousel” spinning.  The message Boyd is attempting communicate is that in every situation one must evaluate their own responses to negative outside stimuli in order to shift the circle of reciprocity to an ongoing cycle of positive and avoid an ongoing vicious cycle of negative responses.  This paper will explore the theory behind the punctuation theory as well as the ways that it manifests itself within my family and relationships.

Period is Not the End

            Punctuation theory operates around the concept of interactive complexity.  Interactive complexity central tenant is that every “act triggers new behavior as  well as responds to previous behaviors.  This cycle of responses develop into patterns of behavior that once fully formed are not only hard to break, but hard to examine.  Punctuation theory provides stops, or, at the risk of sounding redundant, punctuation which allow the behaviors cycles to be broken into pieces and more carefully examined.  The problem that accompanies the punctuation of these behavior cycles is that different individuals within one system of behavior will punctuate the sequence differently.  It is easy to use the different punctuations to assign blame to one of the members within the system.  Each person would feel justified assigning the blame to one of the actions of another.  This is counter productive and an easy pitfall of assigning punctuation.  The aim is to deal with and solve the entire behavioral cycle.  To pick out one behavior and state that it is the cause of the problem accomplishes nothing and merely alienates the accused.  The ideal way to work through the problems is to use an “illness-free” lens where no one member is to blame for starting of continuing the cycle.  This removes the scapegoat member from the situation and allows a freedom to view the situation objectively because there is no blame being assigned.

The Turnover Cycle

            The ACU Men’s Basketball team has a problem and that is turnovers.  We are in the bottom three of the Lonestar conference in assist to turnover ratio.  During our last game, which was a loss to Tarleton State University, we had thirteen turnovers in one half.  This is a cyclical problem, which may be the only reason that we are not the bottom of the league in this statistic.  The cycle progresses like this: We have a high turnover game, Coach gets angry and we put enormous focus on taking care of the ball during the three days until the next game, We have a game with low turnovers (which usually means a win), Coach is content with our effort in that aspect of the game and moves the focus to another facet of our game, the next game we have another high turnover game.

The Player’s Perspective

            It is easy for the players on the team to view Coach’s shifting focus as the root of the problem.  The complaint most often heard thrown about in the locker room is that if Coach wants us to take care of the ball better than we need to have a stronger and more consistent focus on it throughout the year and not only after a high turnover game.  The idea is that you practice how you play and that if he has a set way that he wants the team to play then he should make sure that the practices we have before the game reflect that image.

The Coach’s Perspective

            Coach sees things differently and sets his own punctuation to the problem.  He sees turnovers as mental unpreparedness and a sign of being mentally weak.  He feels that the players, being college players, should be able to carry over basics of the game, such as taking care of the ball, from week to week.  The idea of having to drill on this one facet of the game from practice to practice seems like a large waste of valuable time.  He has other things that he wants to go over and wants to progress beyond this point into more complicated aspects of the game.  He does not want to leave the team unprepared by focusing on turnovers at the expense of other things.

Breaking the Cycle

            To break this vicious circle of poor games both the players and Coach will need to compromise on their viewpoints and the way that practice is run.  The players will need to take responsibility for making turnovers a personal focus every practice and every game.  They need to stop waiting on Coach to do something to fix the problem and take initiative themselves.  They need accountability amongst one another and not exclusively to Coach.
            Coach needs to bend as well.  He needs to recognize that this is a chronic problem and that the players are not exclusively to blame.  Players are a reflection of their coaching.  He can find creative ways to incorporate valuing the ball in the drills that he is using to teach other concepts.  This way he is not focusing on the turnovers at the expense of all else, but is working on both at once.
            If both parties are able to bend then neither will have to break and the season can be saved.  It takes the maturity to stop trying to assign blame and attempt to find what both can do to work together to stop this behavioral pattern.  If both will commit to doing this then ACU has a chance to go to the conference tournement.


Monday, November 30, 2009

Hello dear readers,

I just finished playing waterball and it was pathetic.  Our team won with such ease that it wasn't even fun, so I was left with an empty feeling in my soul.

In other news, Barack Obama made himself a bowl of cereal this morning and the media has not ceased in there praising.  But seriously, GQ named him leader of the year, and he still hasn't done a damn thing.  It really bakes my beans too.

So to soothe my raging soul... I present to you.  Surprised Kitty:

You now have diabetes


Sunday, November 29, 2009

I'm back

Ok, there was no internet at my parents house so that explains the gap in the blog posts.  I actually wrote during that time, but did not post online.  I will make sure to post those writings at a later time, but right now I feel much too lazy.

Guess what! I'm engaged.  As in engaged to be married.  As in about to enter in to a lifelong love covenant with another human being.  I'm freaking pumped.  Like seriously ecstatic.  Should i post the story up on the blog?

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Parent's House

There is nothing quite like going home to the parents house.  I say the parent's house, because, in my mind, once you move out it is no longer your home.  There is a familiarity and comfort that comes with going home to see Mommsie and Pops.  You walk in and you are no longer the responsible adult you are outside of their house.  Once your foot is in that door you become the child once again.  Its time to sit back, relax, and be a kid for a few days.

Bonus Material:  Fangst- what every emo girl that goes to watch Twilight suffers from


Monday, November 23, 2009

I'm Still Sick

Still sick

Sunday, November 22, 2009


I think I'm getting sick.... I definitely don't feel very good.  I'm going to bed.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Man Up Your Thanksgiving

Though it rarely tops “Favorite Holiday” lists, Thanksgiving still has its fair share of perks aside from the obvious flaunting of American opulence.  Make the most of your only guaranteed Thursday holiday by manning it up.

Mental and Physical Preparation 

Often, people will limit their eating during the day in anticipation of the evening feast.  This is a flawed way of looking at Thanksgiving.  A man needs to be prepared for work when he sits down at the table.  Neglecting his nutrition all day will not make him able to consume more; if anything it will shrink his stomach so that it will take less food to fill him.  A man’s best course of action is to eat plenty of the one meat that hardly ever appears in a traditional American Thanksgiving:  bacon.


Our most American sport (sorry, Baseball) and our most American holiday (sorry, Flag Day) have been intertwined for over a century.  We would be remiss not to make mention of how crucial football is to any reasonable Thanksgiving celebration.  That said, giving tips on how to enjoy a football game could be an article unto itself.  So instead, here is one tip to live by in general:  at high school football games, no one likes the 25+ year old alumnus trying to pick up cheerleaders. 


Parades typically have too much in common with Broadway musicals to be considered manly.  Just skip it.  Either that or invent some sort of drinking game like, “Take a shot every time you see a fat guy in a sequined suit that might have fit him fifteen Thanksgivings ago.”


The best way to man up an already manly ritual is to turn it into a competition.  All of your relatives strong enough to participate should.  This leaves the grandparents (should there be any present) in charge of judging.  Begin with a weigh-in before dinner.  Take VERY PRECISE MEASUREMENTS, GRANDMA, as even a few ounces could determine a victory.  Enjoy the full meal including dessert, and weigh-in again before anyone gets a chance to digest.  The winner will be given the ______ Family Fatty Crown and a gift certificate to the restaurant of his/her choice, paid for by the losers.  Don’t forget to wash it all down with some...

Wild Turkey! 

101 Proof.  The preferred potent potable of Hunter S. Thompson.  Nothing makes pretending to be thankful for your awful life seem believable quite like “The Dirty Bird.”
So give thanks, eat up, take a tryptophan-induced nap, and be a man.

Brooksie Baby

Friday, November 20, 2009


Life seems to  be a series of struggles.  It seems to be one drama filled evening after another.  There needs to be rest.  The mind is never  still.  It constantly fights to find equilibrium, but never quite finds the balance.  You try to rest and are challenged.  You try to resolve conflict only to find deeper levels of turmoil.  You search for quiet stillness and find chaotic noise.  You look for whispers and find screams.  When is there rest to be had?  When is peace found?

Life is too much pushed through a space that is too small.

Father grant me peace

Thursday, November 19, 2009


I spent all day laboring over a stupid presentation, and now I'm spent.  I have nothing more to give.  I expended all my stores of insight and criticism on something that I care very little about.

I did learn something about myself today and that is when I'm nervous and there is food present.... I will eat it.  I was kind of nervous about this presentation, not because I don't like speaking in public, but because I was going to have to bullshit the entire thing.  Don't worry my bullshitting went very well, and to celebrate me and Kristina went out for a stiff drink.  Which leads us to now..... ok enough with this

I want you all to sit back and get very comfortable.  You comfortable?  Now clear your mind of all that you have to do and listen to this song and watch this video in full screen and HD setting

Tell me what you think and feel...

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

The Story Continues....

See the Nov. 15 post if your confused:

The flying fishy fiends flopped into the Emerald City with all the power of a tsunami.  Fins, gills, tails, and munchkin body parts began to fly.  The attack had begun.  The munchkins cowered in fear at the scaled army, while the carp showed no mercy.  Their razor sharp dorsal fins slashed huge gashes in the dwarfed appendages of munchkins.  Their powerful scaled tails thrashed about with bone crushing power, much to the dismay of any munchkin that found themselves within their range.
A grim smile found its way to the metallic mouth of the Tin Man.  It was a truly unnatural expression.  Tin Man hovered above the carnage, while scanning the battlefield, looking for his mark.  He saw the Munchkin Marines and the Royally Small Guard organizing a counter offensive in the distance.  "Excellent" he though to himself.  He knew that, with the army out fighting his fishy fellows, the Wizard would be left with minimal security.
He wanted to save his strength for his fight with the Wiz, so he switched to his stealth mode, which all good tin men have, and headed towards the Wizard's tower.  He arrived at the tower and was able to slip past most of the remaining guards.  However, the final two guards saw through the Tin Man's disguise and launched a brutal attack at the Tin Man as he tried to move past them and into the Wizard's chamber.
The battle was quick but ferocious.  The guards were able to do extensive damage to the Tin Man's disguise, but were no match for the Tin Man's destructive power.
Having dispatched the final line of defense for the Wiz, he kicked open the doors to the Wizard's Chamber and looked in upon his adversary with true hatred.

To Be Continued.....

OK,  I had quite a few requests for the continuation of that story.  There shall be more....bwahahahahahahahahaha.

So, I'm proud of Brandon.  He has been steadfast in his commitment to this journey and is writing some really good blog posts.  You should definitely give his blog a read.

I hate people that think that they are far more important than they really are.  They have this annoying habit of thinking that they can say things and get away with it.  The sad part is.... that they can.  Even though my insides burn with unspeakable rage, there is nothing I can do.  This is because usually these people only behave this way in public forums, where I cannot succumb to my Viking instincts and smash their measly mortal bones into the ground.  One day...I will catch them in a dark alley and then I will exact my revenge.

Day 12 in the Books

We will see ya bud,
Brooksie F. Baby

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Ok guys this is a very crazy time of the semester for me, but I promise I am going to try to keep the quality of my posts up.  I will try to make up for any quality drop on the weekends.  This too shall pass.  I feel obligated to those of you who read to keep things interesting and funny.

There has been an outcry for a continuation of yesterdays story... so I shall appease the masses and post one within the next few days.  Any suggestions on general directions that the story should go?

I want this blog to become popular, but I know that I need to invest more time in it for that to happen.  Unfortunately I do not have that time to give.  I will continue to strive to allocate more time for quality posts.  But we all know that popularity is fleeting as is show in this poster:

My ratio of good posts to bad posts is going in the wrong direction.
Brooks Norman

Monday, November 16, 2009

I have now completed 10% of my 100 day journey.  I'm proud of me.  Over the course of those ten days my followers have grown from 2 to 14.  I still have absolutely no idea what this blog will end up becoming.

I don't think before I act at times.  Like today, I re-activated my account on Facebook.  I don't know why though.  I hated Facebook and got so disgusted with it that I quit, but there I was rejoining the rest of the world on the largest social networking site in existence.  I am not as cool and original as I like to think.  I am proud that I managed to make it almost two years without Facebook, though.

Today is the Birthday of LSD ( at least for the next 45 minutes) so I present you with this video in honor of the day:

YELL from Larry Carlson on Vimeo.

That video creeps my out and I have never taken LSD.  I can only imagine that it is worse for everyone who has.  Sorry for the slow blog today.  I got some good stuff planned for you tomorrow.  I was a little discouraged today, because today was the first day since I started this blog that no one commented on a post.  Oh well, I'm sure that I will bounce back.

Holler at a Player When You See Him On the Street

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Cowboys, Children, and Carp

Day 9

Watching the Cowboys is just too painful right now, so I will blog instead.

Children are exhausting.  I think that instead of giving their children "the talk" parents only have to make them take care of small children for any extended period of time.  I don't think that I have ever heard my name said so many times in a single day.  Anytime that my attention was drawn away from the children, I was immediately barraged with "Brooks Brooks Brooks look Brooks look look Brooks Brooks."  That really wasn't that bad though, because I have the innate ability to completely tune out any noise, much to the dismay of those who are trying to have a conversation with me.

Now for a complete change of pace I am going to post an image and write a little about it.

Years after Dorthy's departure from Oz the Tin Man's heart was broken when his long term homosexual relationship with Scarecrow ended badly.  He was new to the nature of the heart and misinterpreted the emotional pain of his heart break as a defect in the gift given him by the Wizard of Oz.  The Tin Man, in a fit of irrational and emotional thinking began to suspect foul play on the part of the Wizard.  The Tin Man continued to wallow in his depressed and paranoid thinking for months as he developed plans of revenge upon the Wizard for his betrayal.  He spent months remaking and upgrading his body.  He was preparing for an all out assault upon the Emerald City and the bastard Wizard.  He remembered how troublesome the flying monkeys had been to he and his comrades in their earlier adventure. So in a stroke of maniacal genius, he gave himself wings and enlisted the help of the the Magic Flying Carp Army.  Which leads us to today, the day of his revenge.  With the Carp cavalry at his back he flies towards the Emerald City with revenge and murder in his heart.  "Today my fine flying fishy fellows we feast upon Wizard and munchkin alike.  These people are worms on a hook hanging before us.  Make them your fish food.  Kill, maim, and fin all that you see, but leave the Wiz for me."

Ok I think thats enough torture for you all today...
See Ya Buds

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Stream of Consciousness

Ok today I am just going to do a little stream of consciousness free writing.  There will be no editing no thinking just typing once I start.  I will start with the word butter... ok here we go.

Butter:  It makes me fat and unhappy.  I am usually unhappy when I feel fat, but I usually have been eating some good food so its not all bad.  Do you know what is all bad though... the inability to stop sweating in a normal period of time.  I can take a cold shower after working out and when I finish I am still sweating as much as when I was exercising.  Exercising makes me not fat, which makes me happy.  This stream of consciousness on the other hand does not make me feel happy.  It also seems to deal much to heavily with my feelings.  So to avoid my feelings I am going to talk about Tom Cruise and how I can no longer take him seriously.  I mean honestly, have you read what scientologists believe?  They think the aliens lived inside volcanos and have now been absorbed into our bodies through shampoo.  My favorite shampoo fragrance is coconut.  When I use it, I am transported to a island and I am washing myself beneath a freshwater waterfall.  I think that the last sentence that I just typed makes me a fag.  I'm ok with that though.  Marko used to call cigarettes fags.  He was cool for an Australian-Serb.  Serb reminds me of the word serve, which reminds me of Chilis, which makes me want to kill myself, which makes me want to stop typing.  So it will

brooksie baby  

Friday, November 13, 2009

On Forgiveness

"Love the creatures for the sake of God and not for themselves. You will never become angry or impatient if you love them for the sake of God. Humanity is not perfect. There are imperfections in every human being, and you will always become unhappy if you look toward the people themselves. But if you look toward God, you will love them and be kind to them, for the world of God is the world of perfection and complete mercy. Therefore, do not look at the shortcomings of anybody; see with the sight of forgiveness."
`Abdu'l-BaháThe Promulgation of Universal Peace

I must begin by asking forgiveness.  I am an imperfect man, and as such, I have failed.  Midnight has come and gone with no new post on my blog.  I went a full 24 hour period without posting which means that I will not be able to post for 100 consecutive days.  On day seven, I have already disqualified myself from reaching my goals.  I could respond to this by making excuses about my day at work.  I could say that because I worked from 10:15 this morning to 11:56 tonight, I was not able to complete my post, but I would rather ask forgiveness.  I ask it from you, my readers, and from myself.  I will forgive myself, but first I must have your forgiveness.  Will you forgive me for my failure to do that which I have promised?

According to Wikipedia, forgiveness is defined as as "the process of concluding resentmentindignation or anger as a result of a perceived offense, difference or mistake, and/or ceasing to demand punishment or restitution. The Oxford English Dictionary defines forgiveness as 'to grant free pardon and to give up all claim on account of an offence or debt'."  Using that definition, if I am to fully forgive myself, I must give up my self-resentment for not posting within the time boundaries that I placed at the beginning of this endeavor.  My forgiveness of myself is crucial to the continuance of this blogging exercise, because if I do not release my resentment then I will begin to see this endeavor and its continuance as a failure.  If I begin to view this blog as a failure, then there is no reason for me to continue to invest and sacrifice the time that it takes to create these entries.  Basically if I don't learn to forgive myself then I carry a defeatist attitude that ultimately leads to defeat.

The funny thing about forgiveness is that, even if you forgive me for any wrong that I have committed against you, it does no good if I cannot except your forgiveness and use your forgiveness to forgive myself.  If I ask for forgiveness and you do not grant it, then the transgression that I committed to you still has an influence on both of us.  The unresolved problem can cause bitterness and anger and stress because it is not being dealt with.  If you forgive me, but I do not except it then the problem will continue to have an influence on me.  It can lead to me carrying attitudes of failure and defeat, which can wreak havoc on my current and future relationships.  However, If you forgive me and I choose to accept your forgiveness and forgive myself, I can move past the problem and learn from it and be a stronger and better and ultimately freer person because of it.

Learn to forgive others and forgive yourself.  I have a friend who, at one time, committed a rather grievous sin against me.  There was a period, during which, I thought I would be unable to forgive him, but thankfully God was able to do a big work in my heart and I was able to forgive him.  Through that forgiveness he and I have grown much closer and have a deeper relationship.  The fact that God allowed my heart to be softened to forgiveness also provided a frame of reference for a forgiveness trial that he has had to face in his own life.  The fact that I, through the grace of God, was able to forgive him, provided an example and precedent when he was face with a situation where he had to forgive.  Forgiveness changes people.  Both the forgiver and the forgiven are changed by the act of forgiveness and reconciliation. None of us deserve forgiveness, that is why it is always a gift.  Learn to except and value that gift and you will have a better, richer, and more fulfilling life

It is very easy to forgive others their mistakes; it takes more grit and gumption to forgive them for having witnessed your own.- JESSAMYN WEST 

I love you all,

P.S. Even though I was late submitting this blog, I will continue to post as if I had finished this before 12 o'clock, which means you should look for a blog tomorrow evening.  I woke up this morning and felt as if I had been beaten all night by 13 midgets with baseball bats.  Apparently waterball takes its toll on the body.  I'll be off now.  I have a new liquor to try.  It is called "The Kraken" and it is a dark spiced rum..... I know, it sounds delicious right?   


Thursday, November 12, 2009

Day 6

I just got out of the waterball pool, and I barely have enough energy to move my fingers.  If I don't have a six-pack by the end of waterball season then I will never have one ever again.  Tonight I played with a guy whose given, Christian, name was Thor.  Yah, thats what I said.  Brookson, Destroyer of Worlds, and Thor, God of Lightning, joined forces tonight and decimated all who stood before them.  Seriously, my body is completely drained of ATP.  My eyes are drooping. It feels as if there is a lead weight strapped to my chest.

The forgiveness blog is coming I promise.  I'm just overwhelmed with responsibilities.

I attended a lecture today.  It was a guest speaker from SFAU who spoke on Folklore.  It was really interesting learning about some of Texas' oldest lore stories.  I would like to spend some time looking into it  some more.

Much love,
Brooksie Baby

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

This Post is Worthless

Tomorrow I hope to post a more serious discussion on forgiveness.  I have been forgiven more, in my life, than I care to admit, and I think that this topic requires more than a marginal effort on my part.  I want to be able to spend enough time to fully communicate the ways the forgiveness has worked in my life.  I am a bit rushed today, because I have one hundred billion things to do and only a few weeks/days to do it in.  I feel that I have failed this blog and you my readers.

Ok a few quick notes:

1. Orphan is a terrifying movie.  There is something about evil children that disturbs me to my core.  I would rather fight a demented serial killer than face the darkened face of an evil child.

2. Glee is a phenomenal show.  I sing along with the cast every episode and at the end I usually want to commit my life to song and dance.  Weird but true.

3. P90x is the bane of my existence, but I endure its unspeakable evils because it allows me to eat whatever I want without having to spend additional money to buy larger clothing.

I promise that my post tomorrow will make up for this useless excuse for a post.  Don't give up on me yet.  I did warn ya'll that not every post would be good, and this is proof.  I am know going to do some KenpoX then some homework then bed.  Stay posted for a better post tomorrow.


Tuesday, November 10, 2009

My Nordic Fury

Day 4

I have often mused to myself that I was born in the wrong era.  I like to think that I would have been much more at home roaming the land wielding my massive sword and hammer fighting alongside my Nordic brothers as we conquered all in the name of great Odin.  I'm pretty sure that my name would have been Brookson the Destroyer of Worlds.  I would be known throughout the land as the tallest, biggest, fiercest warrior to have ever worn a horned cap, but instead I was born in modern America and all I have ever learned to wield is a Xbox controller and a keyboard.  The true glory of battle has eluded me my whole life.  I soon turned to sports in hopes of finding a cure for my inherited bloodlust, longing to find something that would slake my thirst for combat, my desire to see the wide-eyed horror of mine enemies before I smote them with all my Nordic might, and to allow me to gorge myself on the feast of victory.  One by one each sport failed to provide the thrill and challenge I craved.  Football (too controlled), Basketball (too soft) and Baseball (seriously, this one should be obvious) all left me craving more.  Until the glorious day that I discovered the one sport that gave me glorious battle that I desired:

For those of you who are unfamiliar with this glorious sport, allow me to provide you with some reference material

This is truly the greatest sport ever created on God's green earth.  It is the closest to true battle of any game I have ever seen before it.  You push, pull, dunk, grapple, smash, or, in my case, beast your way to victory.  The strongest, fastest, and most vicious warriors are rewarded for their efforts.  There is no greater joy than fighting your way towards the goal with three grown men trying with all their might to halt your steady march to victory, nor is there any glory greater than being the immovable force which brings thine enemies' progress to a screeching halt.  

In waterball, I can live out my destiny.  My blood boils at the sound of the first whistle of the game and I am transformed into a different kind of beast.  I am Brookson, Destroyer of Worlds.

Come check out our next game on Thursday at 10 its going to be an epic clash

Brooksie Baby

PS.  Wow guys you are making me feel really special I now have 10 followers.  I might even have what some would call a small audience of readers.  I promise to keep diligently working on my craft if you promise to keep reading and leaving your comments and criticisms.  Thank you to Jorday Jorday, Lukey Dukey, and Jonesy for your comments on the last entry.  So please subscribe and read and if you like it..... tell a friend.

Apparently this journey has inspired my roommate to embark on a mission of his own.  Check it out at

Monday, November 9, 2009

Day Three of the Life of Me

Hello friends,

It is day three and I am still going strong. Is it sad that I am pleasantly surprised with myself because I was able to last three days? My readership has doubled (from 2 to 4, YAYZ), which is encouraging. I now no longer feel as if I'm writing to myself (Thanks for the follow Montana Jade). I still have very little direction for this grand experiment, so I will continue to just post at random about whatever subject/topic/person/place/issue/animal/phrase/movie has fallen into place at the forefront of my mind at the time. So just hold on. My thoughts often disorient me, so I can't imagine what they will do to you.

Ok first of all: Did you know that if you say "beer can" in a British accent you are saying "bacon" in a Jamaican accent.... go ahead and try..... I know it blew my mind as well. My world will never be same.

Second: Everybody has seen this I hope:

If you haven't seen this Don't Panic. Slowly walk away from the magic picture machine and go crawl back under the rock you have been living under for the past few years.
Today I saw these and decided that they had to be shared with those that I love.

Ok that is all that I have to write about right now, but I am about to go to work and I am sure that it will give me some form of inspiration but until then this is all that you get so deal with it.


Sunday, November 8, 2009

Its Day 2 and I am already up against my deadline

Hello my faithful three readers :(,

Ok, it is day two and I have already come up against my first obstacle. Throughout my college career, I have been taught to take my "voice" out of the papers that I write. I have not had a creative writing class, and my "voice" is not welcome in all of my other academic writing. Those of you who will be accompanying me on this 100 days of literary genius (haha), you now have something to look for when you read my posts. You can help me identify and hone my "voice". Ok now that the boring preface is out of the way..... on to the fun stuff.

There is a phrase that has been thrown around quite a bit in my house as of late, "Only in Abilene." I mean no offense to anyone who was born or raised in Abilene (love you 'stiners), but seriously.... only in Abilene. The other night after work me, Kristina, Hoopsie, and BKing decide to hit up one of Abilene's local haunts, Linda's Lounge (at the bottom of the Whitten Inn (the number one locally owned motel in Abilene)). Linda's is the kind of bar that can make you feel like an all-star or a local yokel depending on the night. Tonight we were received like all-stars. As the door swung open to the dimly lit hole-in-the-wall bar a roar poured out into the chilly November night. The roar was emanating from our already completely intoxicated co-workers. One Chilihead (we will just call her "the Canuck") was particularly "stumbly". She ran over and promptly grabbed my woman by the back of the head and plunged 'Stiners cute little head between her Canadian bosi (the made up plural of bosom). I'm not gonna lie I think that Hoopsie and Brandon were a little upset that they did not receive the same greeting. After we received our enthusiastic greeting we grabbed our drinks from the bar and took a seat at the table.
A few minutes later I saw a girl sitting at another table, who had what looked a glitter covered mole on her temple. On further inspection I saw that it was actually a diamond (probably fake). I called her over and asked if it was a piercing or a stick-on. Her answer was lost in a slur of unintelligible words. I'm not sure if she was slurring because she was hammered drunk or if it was because its difficult to talk with two huge metal bolts going through your twice pierced tongue. She informed me that it was neither a piercing or a stick-on, but that it was an implant. An non-removable implant. An "I can never take this off.... ever" implant. An "I got this shiny glass chunk on my temple that looks like a glittery mole from across the room and I can never take it off ever unless through an expensive removal process by a doctor" implant. Yeah, she bragged about it for a few more minutes, during which she smashed at least one of her tongue piercings against her teeth no fewer than 15 times, before she stumbled back to her table. After our drinks were finished we decided it was time to go back to the house. On the way out we saw this

Yeah thats a Marine in full dress blues passed out drunk
"Only in Abilene"

See Ya,
Brooksie Wooksie

Saturday, November 7, 2009

100 Days of Posting

Day 1

Dear Readers,

Welcome to my journey. I am about to embark on what will (hopefully) prove to be a fun, revealing, and trying quest, one hundred days and one hundred posts. Its sounds like an exercise in literary narcissism, I know, but, my aim is much higher than that, I assure you. My goal is to find relevant and universal themes in my life that will help me define and refine my life. Once these themes or patterns are identified I will strive to use them in such a way that others in my life will benefit. I hope to share truth that is revealed during this time of introspection. Not all posts will be long, not all posts will be good or deep and meaningful (or grammatically sound for that matter), but they will a part of this process of self-discovery and self-refinement. Of course one of the additional benefits of this process will be my growth as a writer as I get to practice my trade.

Lets start at the beginning: What inspired me to embark on this endeavor? To be honest that question can be answered using one name, David Sedaris. He is incredible, he can take some of the more ordinary aspects of life and manipulate them into sidesplitting tales that leave his readers smiling for hours. The greatest part of his essays is the fact that they always lead the reader to a universal truth that they can apply to their life. I want that. I want the ability to write things that entertain and interest an audience, but that will ultimately move them, by revealing an aspect of life that is relevant to them. I doubt my skills will ever compare to Senor Sedaris ( I don't know how to put a tilde above the N), but I can always dream.

I encourage all forms of feedback from anyone who reads this blog. I am here to grow and to learn, and then hopefully to share with those that will listen. All of you have something to teach me so don't hold back, because then you are only depriving me of the valuable things you have to say.

I want to apologize to all of the people in my life like Kristina (#1), Hoop C. Hoop, Jorday Jorday, Brandone, Cartier, The Spaniard, Don Juan, all my fellow Chiliheads, my family, and all others who will be included in this blog over this next 100 days and, I also want to let you know that all sensitive information will be safe from publication. Names will also be changed to protect the innocent if something even remotely sensitive makes it into my chronicling. All of that to say, you don't have to avoid me for the next 100 days to avoid being eviscerated in the blogosphere.

This will be fun I promise.
Subscribe and be part of the journey

I Leave you with this

Brooksie Baby

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Tucker Max: Genius Author

I just picked up Tucker Max's book I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. A film adaptation of this book will soon by released into theaters near you (thats right....YOU). This book is brilliant, absolutely brilliant. I have never before encountered a text that had such a high concentration of debauchery. Every pages oozes with the slime of Tucker's actions. The man is a legend, no other human being can make being such a complete and total narcissistic bastard so likable. He commits every unspeakable taboo imaginable yet, because of his unabashed and completely honest style of communicating his story, we love him for it. He has re-imagined and reinvented the memoir. No longer does one have to feel the need to remake and re-posture himself in his memoir, because Tucker has set the precedent of brutal and ugly honesty.

Oh yah.... He is hilarious too. If you happen to see it in the bookstore look up the chapter entitled "Fellatio Follies"

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Work In Progress

This is a really rough work that started because of a school assignment and we will see where it goes

That Is Definitely a Versatile Word

It has traditionally been one of the most taboo words in the American English language. There are countless variations and uses for the word, although until recently those uses have remained largely untapped. Once considered to be one of the most shocking swear words, the “F” word has recently begun to carve its own unique niche in American English. There is a famous scene in the 1999 Troy Duffy movie “The Boondock Saints” where the bumbling character Rocco gets rattled by his friends who have played a practical joke on him and he launches into this tirade:

“What did you do?! Fuckin'... what

the fuckin' fuck! Who the fuck, fucked

this fuckin'? fuck. How did you two

fuckin', fucks?......... FUCK!!!”

To which his friend replied, “That certainly illustrates the diversity of the word” (Duffy). This word transformed from a rarely spoken taboo word to one that was used over 260 times in the movie “The Big Lebowski.” This over-use of the word has allowed it to develop beyond being a mere exclamation into a noun, verb, adjective, and adverb. These different lexical items of the word “fuck” will be explored within this paper. Once each lexical use of the word is explained, it should, “certainly [illustrate] the diversity of the word.”

To get a firm grasp on the usage of the word as well as the connotations and ideas surrounding it. I pulled together ten friends from different realms of university life to form a panel to discuss the F-word. They asked that their names be withheld from the paper, but would allow their gender and words to be cited.

The first use of the word “fuck” refers to the actual act of copulation such as “I caught them fucking.” When asked what the word meant in the context of the phrase “I would like to fuck her” all of those interviewed agreed that the sentence expressed the desire of the speaker to have sex with the ambiguous her. One student offered the alternate, but unlikely, interpretation that the speaker’s desire was to bring strife into “her” life.

Although they all agreed that it was referring to the act of having sex, the deeper implications of that act were very diverse. One student (male) said that the connotations of the word in the context of that sentence implied an unabashed act that neither party felt ashamed of. He said that if the speaker had said “I would like to have sex with her” it would leave open the possibility of shame, but to fuck was to do so without shame. To call the act of sex “fucking” was to state it as bluntly and directly as possible. Once this idea was introduced to the panel of interviewees the idea was accepted as being true.

One of the females on the panel said that word communicated the idea of an absence of emotion in the act of sex. She contrasted the phrase “to make love” with the word and stated that two people cannot make love and fuck at the same time. Another female built of that idea by saying that it seemed like fucking would refer to a rougher form of sex and even a possibly degrading act.

Out of the ten members of the panel six said that they were uncomfortable using this word in that context, while the remaining members said they had little to no problem using it, if it applied. The consensus was that it was a direct and unabashed way to refer to possibly rough sex that was focused on external feelings and not internal connection.

The F-word has also become an adverb and adjective and more specifically an intensifier. If one was very tired then saying that they are fucking tired would effectively convey that message. The general consensus from the panel was that the, although diminished, forbidden nature of the word it brings a power that would be lost using another adjective. The word could be used in both negative and positive ways such as “This fucking sucks” or “that was fucking fun” and fits them both equally well. One of the male members on the panel introduced the idea that the word did gain extra meaning when used to express angry or bitterness “Such as I hate you so fucking much right now.” The panel was undecided as to whether the added force was due to the fact that the sentence itself was strongly worded or because of an association with the work “fuck” and its derivatives and anger. This connection was made earlier when discussing rough sex and was seen again in this lexical form.

This was the most common usage of the word excepting the reference to the actual act. It is a strong exclamation that can be used when one is surprised, angry, hurt, or disgusted. It is most appropriate and seems the most natural when referring to the speaker specifically. Most people would not use this word in the case of “ ______ that person is ugly” because it does not refer to the speaker specifically.

Overall the F-word is indeed an extremely versatile and strong word that communicates extreme disgust and displeasure, but has begun to grow and branch into a word that can have positive connotations. It is still a very taboo word, but its use has begun to become more acceptable and mainstream due to its overuse in theatrical media. A word that can be used in most any situation it is definitely a versatile word.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Harry Potter Review

There is always something magical about midnight premiers of blockbuster movies, and (forgive me for this) the magic was definitely in the air during the Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince premier last night. I am not sure if the magic should have been credited to the underdeveloped 17 year old in front of me who kept dabbing drying blood off his forehead. The blood originated from what appeared to be a pocketknife induced Potter-esqe lightening cut that seemed to have been carved moments before he filed into line. Another contributing factor to the electric and frenzied atmosphere that was present last night might have been the young lady who chose to arrive in a slutty Hogwarts uniform that gave her the likeness of a Hermione Granger whose crack cocaine addiction had forced her to start turning tricks in one of the darker corners of Diagon Alley or the sixty-one year old couple that were dressed in eerily accurate Dumbledore and McGonagall costumes. Whatever the cause, there was definitely an aura of excitement and anxiety in the pre-seating line.

I definitely fell subject to the anxiety of the night. With all of the subpar sequels and failed blockbusters that have popped up recently I was more that just a little scared that Harry Potter was going to go the way of the Transformers franchise. The opening scenes did little to settle me fears. I watched as the Death Eaters destroyed the Millennium Bridge and I had flashbacks of Michael Bay’s explosion-fest that was Transformers 2, but my fears were quickly assuaged as the movie settled in to the pace and tone that we have come to expect and love in the Potter series.

The visuals present in this installment were on par with the bar that was set by the Order of the Phoenix. I was somewhat disappointed that the director and screenplay writers decided to avoid a few scenes that would have led to some brilliant battle sequences. The fights that were included in the movie were done quite masterfully.

Overall I thought that the storyline got a bit distracted by the romantic comedy element of the movie. With all of the evil that was present at that time in Potter world, it seems that there should have been much less emphasis placed on the romantic elements of the movie, but it is what it is. Overall it was a great movie and a great lead in to what promises to be the best installment of the series in The Deathly Hallows.