Philosophy Class...or is it?...

All of you are correct by assuming I’m a great debater.  What does it take to be a great debater?  Thanks for asking.  It takes being a philosopher.

I teach a philosophy class at Columbia University and debates often spark.  Other than the whispered debate amongst students about - how the hell did this weak black woman (referring to me) get to teach this course, this class dives into - the mysteries of life.  For example, let’s reenact one of our greatest debates.  As always, I played the moderator...or did I?


ME:  Ok, welcome to today’s class.  Let’s jump right into our debate.  I hope both sides are prepared.  Today is the day that all those years of preparing to be prepared pays off.

We’ll start with each side's opening argument and see where it takes us...I hope all of you stretched your hamstrings.  Let's start off with this side.

(point to left side and ask):  

What is your side's opening argument?

Left side:  Life sucks.

(Repeat while shifting eyes toward right side):

Life sucks…ok, and can we have your side's opening argument?

Right side:  But it gets better.

Me:  Ah, but it gets better.

(pause and act interested; then point to each side and repeat arguments)

Life sucks…but it gets better…

Ok, I’d like each side to repeat their opening arguments so we can really emphasize where each side truly stands.

(have each side repeat arguments; then say):

That’s interesting…life sucks…but it gets better.

(then have right side go first, asking):

Is there anything you’d like to add.

Right side:  Life gets better.

Me:  Ah, life gets better...Would the other side like to counter?

Left side:  But it sucks.


Me:  I have heard both sides and they are each compelling arguments.  Once again, we had:

Life sucks, countered by - but it gets better...

And then we had:

Life gets better, countered by - but it sucks...

Very interesting...I have come to the conclusion that life doesn't necessarily suck - but it's not getting better either...

...life just is...or is it?

Health Insurance for the soul...

Politicians lie.  We will see if Barry Obama lied to me about health insurance and helping me out with that bladder problem.  But, all politicians do lie.  And they should…because it seems to work.  They should run for office based on the greatest lie of all time - by telling kids they can grow up to be anything they want to be.  Like Barry Obama is in the position to tell anyone this.  Parents and teachers tell children this and the outcome is that none of them become what they want to become...

...maybe the opposite might work.  Tell kids they won't become anything and they will revolt like the 60s and become everything they want to be…because that’s what happened in the 60s.  That revolution really worked out for everybody.                           (peace sign)

Now, personally, I've been telling myself I won't become what I want my whole life.  Looking in that mirror I say, “Garrett you will become nothing.”  So far so good because I'm thirty - so my life is half over and I'm the farthest I can be from what I'd like to be...what I dream to be...I'll tell you what that is shortly.

So, like Barry Obama said – hope – it’s still alive...as long as everyone continues to bet with me...bet with me - by lying to me that I can become everything I want.  Because I know they lying...telling me I can become anything is a lie...at least coming from people like politicians and my family and friends...and the thing is, politicians know they lying, too...so, what they must truly believe is the truth – is that I will be like everyone else - by not becoming what I want...and so the “real” truth must be the opposite of what politicians truly believe.  Therefore, the real truth must be the politician’s lie…in this case…and so, the only way to interpret this is – is that I can become anything and everything I want to become.  It's like reality Halloween, everyday...and you may not think this is coming from someone with much soul...but one day I will become what I want and stand before you – as a strong black woman.  And not even a politician can lie and tell the masses that they ain't got soul...

...And that's what's up, Brooklyn!

Why Alcohol Was Invented

The whole reason alcohol was invented was so people could tolerate talking to one another.  When you're a kid any interaction with another kid can be engaging.  I taught third grade and I'd often be in the middle of teaching and have to stop because the kids were talking so much.  I'd pause and ask them, "What are you talking about?  How could you possibly have this much to say?  You have no life experiences.  What is everybody discussing?"  They had no answers and kept on talking.  I've got a theory, though.  But, then again, I've got many theories.  Here is one.

Being that young is in itself an intoxicant.  That's why adulthood is so hard to adjust to - we're coming down from the high of childhood.  When you're a kid, you have friends over and always find something fun to do.  When you're an adult, you start to have company over and you chat.  It's really boring until the drinks start flowing.  You go from the monotonous back and forth of:  How have you been?  What's new with you guys?  And how's work? - to telling stories, recalling memories (of when you were much younger) and even accepting sexual innuendos.  Here's how it all started:

A boy was friends with another boy in kindergarten.  What were they talking about?  The answer is nothing, but to them it was everything.  A day passed for these kids and so much happened that they ran up to each other in school to say, "You wouldn't believe what happened!"  Nothing really happened.

Months and years can go by for adults and when they see friends, both sides say, "Nothing's new."

These little conversations are so important for kids.  For adults, it makes you not want to call it a day, but a life.

The two boys were standing up in class during the advanced building blocks period.  Lunch had just ended and both of them still had apple juice in their right hand.  The left hand was in their pocket and they were debating.  You fast forward twenty-five years and these same people (they graduated from kids to people) have the same stance, yet a beer or glass of wine and debates about politics replace the apple juice and debate about which Star Wars movie is best.

The main difference between those kids and the graduated people are - those kids really believe which movie they think is best and think it affects their lives tremendously.  The adults may believe in which side of the fence they’re debating for, but the next day when the drink washes away, they aren't thinking about the debate at all.  The kids aren’t either.  They’re just watching their favorite version of that movie.

The two kids grew up and there were no more Star Wars debates and they struggled to create conversation with one another.  So, they invented alcohol.

That's the true story of how alcohol was invented.  Show me someone telling you a different version and I'll show you a liar who most likely stole your apple juice in kindergarten.  He's the same person that liked the version of Star Wars you still hate.  And that's why you drink.

At a certain point in life you go from having friends over to having company over.  Personally, I would like to have friends over and avoid having company over as long as possible.  Either way - cheers.

Scraps-n-Drafts...

Picture a comedian actually writing these down...like I did, except picture a real comedian...

Bloomberg and the huge soda skit...A guy interviewing with him for a campaign...He keeps going to bathroom and bringing back a larger soda...

Was it the advertising that made you try those?...No, they are just delicious...

We meet again...Yeah, whatever...

The video shown during a newscast where a person is introduced and a video shows them speaking, but with no voice as newscaster tells the audience how special the person is...Like, look, we really did talk with this person...see...and he is wonderful...

The gall of someone to say if you do this you can win that...like you can meet me...like who really needs to meet anyone...With that said, I hope to one day meet Jack White...and Bob Dylan...and Derek Jeter...I met Ray Allen once...that was pretty cool...If you can write a 1,000 word essay on why someone would ever want to meet you then you can win a chance to meet me!...

Forget your wine tasting...I'm interested in ice coffee tasting...tastes like creativity...

People that walk around during the day like it's a fashion show are ridiculous and need to be destroyed...a city block is not a runway...

How To Train Your Dragon...I'm not sure if that's the name of some children's book or some infomercial late at night...

People ask me when I tell them I was an insomniac for like four years, "How did you function?"...I'm not convinced what I did was function...If a car was an insomniac and functioned like I did for those four years, there would be a lot of nearby functioning people not functioning anymore...You say function enough and it starts to feel funky...feel funky is much different than taste or smell funky...no?...Not convinced I'm functioning again quite yet...maybe I should go to an insomniac function and see how all the other sleepless people function...

I'd say I will see you at the next convention, The Redhead's Convention, but I will not be there, I am not a redhead...this is orange hair...but I think they don't call it Redhead but Redhead's because they really want to sell that it's their convention......"I heard the next convention is the Redneck Convention"...Oh, then I will see you at that one...

Do I need an application into the asylum?  I've got a box that contains hundreds of little pieces of paper with random thoughts on them...a box which my cat Bob Dylan pissed on and I've kept it because something inside me thinks I will use or need those some day...that's my application...

My fiancée's cat pulled a real classy move...taking a huge crap and blowing up the whole apartment at 3 in the morning...real classy...He also stands on pillows...

It's a really cheap laundromat...but the thing is if you don't pick up your clothes on time they give them away...it's really weird too because they give them away to the last customer that night...I left them there and my clothes were given away and then I was doing a wash a few weeks ago and this guy was wearing my tshirt...I said to him, "Nice tshirt......look, it was really good to me, take good care of it......and, oh...give me my fucking clothes back"...we are now Facebook friends...and both our pictures have us wearing my tshirt...

I am Larry David's idol... I think that's how it goes...

Born in 1947, the younger of two sons of a clothing salesman and a housewife, David had “a wonderful childhood,” he has said, adding, “Which is tough, because it’s hard to adjust to a miserable adulthood.”

Like many comedians, Larry David carries a pocket notebook for writing down ideas.

I think I got the saying mixed up...when I was young I thought my mom said that you shouldn't say anything unless you have something funny to say...and that's my rationalization for not talking much...until I have a joke to offer...but now I realize the saying is don't say anything unless you have something nice to say..."Well, you aren't saying anything nice or funny right now, so shut up!"...my mom also said...

Some like to talk politics...I like to talk class...I'm not talking economic status...but class as in whose got it...got class...delve into how fiancé's cat got no class...wears the same thing everyday...where is he now? Nobody knows, he stays out until three in the morning, comes home and blows up the apartment, as in goes to the bathroom...

It Sounds Even Better When I Say It Out Loud (Aloud?)...name of book...that hasn't been written and probably never will be...

People ask me what my books about and I tell them I'm not writing a book...I'm sick of people assuming I write books just because I look so intelligent...

...but then I choose to write a book and people ask me what it's about...but then people don't ask me and I pretend they even know I exist and are interested in what I have to say...in writing, a lot...talking, I've got nothing...but, anyways, the book that I'm pretending I'm writing is about my observations of society... I'm not really happy with society right now and think it needs a little talking to......good thing I wrote that instead of getting sleep...good thing...

Today is the last day of the rest of my life...

Laughter when there isn't supposed to be...that was not funny...that is not my opinion, it's fact...so, why'd you laugh?...

Dunkin' Donuts / Verizon Commerical...

People are waiting in line at a New York City deli. It's heat wave season, which means it's iced coffee season. People are just standing there and sweating - one of my favorite pastimes. One guy can't take it any more and looks to his left to the fogged-up freezers with all the ice cold drinks. He opens up a door, throws drink after drink out of the freezer onto the floor until there's enough room for him to fit inside the freezer. He climbs in and smiles in delight. Camera cuts to another guy simply sipping a Dunkin' Donuts iced coffee - with a voice over - There's easier ways to cool off this summer - Dunkin' Donuts iced coffee, the freezer is in you!


...


The only difference between Martin Luther King Jr. and me is that he remembered his dream.

Well, and maybe one more thing.  I don't think MLK ever wrote the below commercial idea:

First and foremost, are you satisfied with your phone?  That is what's most important.  Because if you're not satisfied then how could you go on with your day?  It would be impossible.  And people say nothing is impossible.  But those are the people that are satisfied with their phones...Verizon...are you satisfied?

Starving Artist...

I think about my life and what I've dedicated it to.  The most work I've ever put into something, or the most I've cared about something, was in elementary school.  It was during recess.  My classmates and I had to take one lap around the playground.  I had to be first - and was - every time.  Check your sources.  I am sure there was some dork in my class that kept track and still has the records.

I had to be first.  Someday I'd like to put that passion into my writing.


I've decided, after getting engaged and talking about plans of starting a family, to forgo teaching as the career path.  Instead, I'm going to write a couple poems every few weeks - tip toeing toward starving artist status.  I might as well leap toward this inevitability, become unemployed, and then I could squeeze in another poem or two each month.  This is also inevitable because I am not good at anything - other than writing - poems and a few funny observations.  I am a poet and a comedic observationalist.  That's what I am - and my mom and future wife, or ex-future wife, are going to have to deal with this.  They know this and let me know they know.  What they choose to not observe is that I have to deal with this too - more than them because I am - me. 

I am a starving artist.  Saying I am, followed by something, most likely implies I am that something - otherwise I am not and shouldn't have said that I am - unless, I eventually add that I am a liar.  Let's dissect.

I am starving.  Yes, I am a little hungry this evening, but millions of people across this world wouldn't even beg to differ that I'm not starving - because they physically couldn't beg.  These people are too hung up on their own real starvation to care about how I claim to turn wanting food into an artform -- nevermind beg.  The first part, starving, untrue.

I am an artist.  Qualifications for being an artist today have become as broad as the pool for parents calling their children gifted and talented.  I have not met a gifted or talented kid in almost thirty years - back when I met myself for the first time.  Kids that are forced by their parents to play piano at six months old and become so-called prodigies are not artists.  However, I will never forgive my parents for not forcing me to become an artist. I guess I'm at the point where I have to force myself - and soon - because that five year-old pianist is making me look ridiculous.  The second part, I'm working on it, pending.

Conclusion - I am an aspiring starving artist.

Times Square and Stuffed Animals

I met this really slick 4 year-old today...he had a stuffed animal that was and still is a monkey...I asked him what its name is...he said Times Square...and I, out of nowhere, asked why...he said it's because he almost lost it at Times Square...kid is hilarious, and I know we just met, but I think I'm going to ask him to be my writing partner.