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Dear Donald Glover (from ‘Community’, you know, that show on NBC before ‘The Office’ that no one watches, but NBC doesn’t suck like Fox, so it doesn’t cancel shows that are awesome that no one watches, or move them to Friday night, seemingly just to make you feel like a lame virgin, because when you’re out at a bar drinking absinthe and you’re wondering whether Peter is going to find out that Faux-livia had his baby, that’s how you feel…also he wrote for 30 Rock for a while, but I haven’t watched that show in forever, even though it’s really funny, because Alec Baldwin’s current puffiness makes me incredibly depressed and then I have to watch cartoons and I already watch too many cartoons),

First, I’d like to say that I love you.  Not like platonic love, but not exactly romantic love either.    It’s more like the way that normal people love god, or their grandparents.  It’s similar to how I feel about my cat, but not quite.  Although I would probably still let you lick my face and my ankles after I get out of the shower, even though I really DO NOT care for that.  Second, I would like to invite you to my house for dinner.  I live in Vancouver and my house is really cool and I’m a good cook, and there’s the face and ankle licking to look forward to, if you’re into that.  This is really starting to sound like a scary stalker letter, so I’m going to move on and not mention licking anymore.  I’m beginning to think that comparing you to my cats may have led me slightly astray (get it, like a cat, I know, I’m great, you can steal that for your act or whisper it in Tina Fey’s ear or whatever, I don’t mind).

Now, onto the serious portion of this letter.  I have, for some time, believed that there are a variety of things we are told as children that are, at best, quite untrue and, at worst, very dangerous and harmful lies.  One of these I believe you can relate to pretty directly.  No, it’s not that size doesn’t matter – it actually does.  I’m kinda short, so I can definitely speak to that one:  it’s not great, tall is WAY better than short and so is long, if we’re keeping track.  I was told my entire young life that being “well-rounded” is the best way to achieve your goals and guarantee success.  I know that seems like a pretty innocuous assertion, but I believe that we see the ill effects of it everywhere.  For instance, I’m out of high-school right now and I’m so deathly afraid that I won’t get in to college if I’m not “well-rounded” that I'm not sleeping or eating right now because I haven't done and Internships or volunteered for National Honor Society, Youth Group, Show Choir, Harvard Model Congress, etc. I’ve started to realize that part of the reason why I, and I believe most of the people I know, feel doomed to live in these dreary corporate monogamous relationships (I mean that the corporate relationships are monogamous, not that monogamy is corporate, that is a topic for another letter and since we don’t have a robust correspondence established I feel that you may not be ready for that type of dialectical commitment) is that we were forced into “well-roundedness” when we might have been better specializing and actually being good at something instead of just being okay at everything.

You may be thinking, “how does this relate to me, I’m clearly both awesome AND well-rounded?”  While this is undoubtedly true, even though you’re a bit of a dick for IMMEDIATELY jumping there, I do feel that it applies to you.  You obviously someone who became a writer and then decided that you would also like to, or perhaps prefer to, be a musician/rapper/sex symbol/famous black nerd (as you refer to yourself, I feel uncomfortable with the ‘n’ word, obviously).  I perceive that while people appreciate that you are “well-rounded” so to speak, they still know you as primarily ONE thing because that is how they feel comfortable relating to you. 

Does that suck or is it awesome? 

Do you think that the generally accepted notion that it is better to be well-rounded indicates that we have a general fear of personal failure in our society?  Or do you think it comes from a push toward homogeneity that creates a group think that is easier to predict and influence?  Is it an inclination toward sameness?  If that’s the case, isn’t our worship of people who are decidedly un-well-rounded a paradox?  Why, if we are meant to be well-rounded, does everyone love Lebron (and don’t lie, you love Lebron, everyone loves him, only sycophants pretend not to like him because, oh, boohoo, he decided he’d rather win than lose and live in South Beach than Cleveland, I mean, for sweet Christ’s sake, it’s CLEVELAND)? 

I would be really curious to hear your thoughts, serve you pie and introduce you to my cat (I am restraining myself from mentioning licking again, oh wait, I did mention it I guess…dammit).

Love (neither platonic nor romantic, perhaps plamantic, romonic…yes! ROMONIC (it’s an anagram for moronic, just fyi…oooh double parenthetical)),

A Fan (of you and parentheses)

PS - I have “Mystery Team” downloaded on bittorrent.  It’s awesome.  I enjoy striped shirts and the infantilization of adolescent boys, so it’s right in my wheelhouse.

PPS - I’ll also introduce you to my awesome friend if you come over for dinner.  She’s a brunette and she’s really interesting.  I would introduce you to me, but I’m a guy (who’s totally willing to make the homosexual jump if we have more in common than I assume and we hit it off and have a few too many to drink but I suppose introducing you to myself would be really tricky, in like an existential sense or whatever).

I Can't Believe How Weird it is To Be Anything at All

Every so often when the planets align and the stars shine down with such rhapsodic majesty I have a conversation with people. It happens sometimes, but I'm never happy when it does. Mostly because of one thing: I don't think I'm a person. I'm aware of my surroundings, and yes- I do believe that this is the REAL world and not a artificial one crafted by higher robotic powers- but I never feel like I am the same person in any two conversations. I am some sort of clay-faced menace who has no business being allowed other people. Why is this?
      
             I had a conversation with a very good friend and I like to tell myself "I can be myself with her, no matter what", but I came to the startling conclusion that even with one my dearest friends I can trust myself to be myself. To provide context, we were discussing 'self-love' and how I did not have any of it. She said that it was necessary for me to have it and to be greedy once in awhile. I tried to rebut but I could not think of anything. Her reasoning was sound and it made sense. After the phone call and I was left alone with myself I realized that I had this conversation with myself before and came to a totally different conclusion but forgot about in the face of a real conversation with a real person. Why was this? It wasn't random thought I had well playing the 82nd round of Gun Battle Slap 5 on my PlayBox2, I had conceived one of my most solid and grounding philosophies over the course of many introspective moments- it was very real and one of the single most pivotal moments of the creation of my self. How did I forget it as soon as it became relevant?
      
              If you were wondering what my philosophy is (I BET YOU ARE), it's quite simple. I do not have any self-love because I consider myself to be not anything more than a tiny, insignificant bit of carbon. My life is short, unimportant and without much reason. But OTHER people- those guys are going places. They seem to have dreams and aspirations and goals. Why can't I be the supporting character in their blockbuster life adventure? I can be the Alfred to their Batman, the Watson to their Sherlock or the Shaggy to their Scooby. What is wrong with being second fiddle. It's not a question of laziness or self-sacrifice, it's simply the choice of being happy while helping other people.
      
             So, you can see there is some thought behind this principle, why the hell did I forget it with such gusto? This happens all the god damn time. I don't have an answer why. Is it fear? Could it be the result of an awful memory or what happens when you haven't had much sleep? I don't know. I feel like the more I ponder about it the more empty and upset I get over it. It's like being a bridle cast of an idea, so easily crumbled that it isn't even worth trying to be a human being. But I want to try, I just don't know where to start. I know at the very least I am, but I don't know what 'am' is.
I doubt our ancestors crawling out of the primordial soup had these problems.

Look at this guy. Not a goddamn care in the goddamn world. 

Only thing on his mind is 'where my tyrana-bitches at' 

I Hate People Episode I

Welcome to a segment I like to call 'I Hate People'. You might be thinking to yourself; "why dear blogger- a segment? This will be short lived for sure". Fear not avid reader, for you are so mistaken you might as well take your head out of your ass right now (anyone looking for a journalist or writer- not only can I employ shoddy grammar, but I also excel at insulting any readers. Email only please).

I was at a party the other night and a group of us (read: the music assholes who feel the need to control the music and by proxy the feel of the party) were hurdled by the iPod dock that was filling the small apartment with totally phat beats. Being the music assholes, we lapsed into conversation concerning, well, music. Obviously. Eventually Taylor Swift came up in conversation and a good friend of mine asked us "Do you think you'd listen to her if she wasn't so attractive?" to which my fellow MAs replied "Yeah, I think she's pretty good because blah blah justification for listening to a whiny 17 year old with a guitar". Personnally, I don't have a problem with TSwift. I think she's a pretty solid singer. But the question was "Do you think you'd still listen to her if she wasn't so attractive"
I HARDLY SEE HOW THAT ENTERS INTO IT.
That would be like saying "Would you love the Mona Lisa if you didn't like the feel of it on your bare, nubile flesh", or asking someone if they enjoyed waterslides for the scenery. No, that is a god damn idiotic question and has nothing to do with anything. Music is-or at least should be- a completely auditory experience. I for one have never found myself thinking "Oh my goodness listen to his voice- IT SOUNDS LIKE HE HAS AN EIGHT PACK HAWT" or "MY GOD THIS IS SO TIGHT, IT BE MAKING MY SLACKS TIGHT IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN".

God I want to fuck so bad

 Okay, so that last one has happened- but only when listening to beats so orgasimingly fresh that I'm forced to my knees in extacy (this is particularly awkward on the bus).
My point I'm so labourosly trying to reach is this- not everything must be related back to the superficiality of  boning one another or stairing blankly at bouncy coeds or sexy guitar players on the beach. That's what porn is for. Lets keep it clean, people.
And that is why I hate people

Resolutions, this time it will be different! Right?

So this is the time of year when we all make promises to improve ourselves and vow that it will be different this year because your resolve is totally better than it was last year. And then we look back a year later and realize that you forgot most of those resolutions by January and it wasn't different at all. Last year I made a very comprehensive list on my iPod so I'd be able to look at it frequently and remind myself of what I should be doing better. Of course, two months later I forgot that feature existed and in quickly faded into obscurity.
BUT NOW IT WILL BE DIFFERENT FOR REAL BECAUSE FACEBOOK. Hold me to this internet. That is all.

- Be kinder to animals.

- Stop dealing with dumb bitches.

- Get my knitting on. Hardcore. I'm talking ugly-ass sweaters here.

- Actually do homework. And study. Not bullshit "I CAN WATCH HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER AND DO PHILOSOPHY AT THE SAME TIME" homework.

- Find a way to watch EVEN MORE TV

- Get a job so I can say "GET A JOB HIPPY" to people who don't have jobs.

- Violin. I should play it more often. Make sweet love with that instrument

- At least get a gym membership and attend every week for that rock hard body. For the ladies.

- Acquire more suits. MAYBE SCUBA SUIT!?

- GRADUATE FROM HIGH SCHOOL.

- Learn how to english better.

- Become the greatest free-style curser to ever walk this earth

- Read every book I own.

- Learn Sanskrit. Bitches love the Sanskrit.

- Continue to be as rad and geeky as possible. CAN YOU SAY ROLLER BLADES? I SURE CAN.

I think that's enough for now. I mean, I can't be TOO perfect, can I?