The "Less-Fortunate" (On Being Poor)

A while ago I came across an article on cracked.com (hilarious humor website. if you like sarcasm, check it.) titled:

5 Things Nobody Tells You About Being Poor

Despite me laughing out loud at the sarcastic humor in said article, ALL FIVE THINGS WERE TRUE. And it got me to thinking: we're always talking about how rich people should help those who are "less fortunate" by donating time to shelters and soup kitchens, items to food banks and churches, and money to charities and foundations.

But what about the people (and I count myself among them) who are too "rich" for food banks but live paycheck to paycheck? Who helps them?

This is what the cracked article was mainly about in many ways. The concept of "the poor" has long been conflated with the image of "the homeless". And while we should help those who are homeless, the majority of the poor are not. They eat (perhaps not 3 square meals a day) and wear clean clothes and work steady jobs. They are not slackers or beggars. They are not homeless and destitute. They are POOR. Sometimes because of bad decisions. Always because of circumstance. And often "poor" is not an adjective that describes a single family or a neighboorhood. It more often qualifies GENERATIONS. In this country, you can honestly (statistically) say that if you were born poor, there's a good chance that you will stay poor... and so will your children.

Now I'm not saying that upward mobility doesn't happen (I'm sure hoping that I will be proof of that one day soon--- and in some ways I already am), but I think it's about time that we stop what I like to call adjectivizing people (when those who are less fortunate become THE "less-fortunate" or like when those who come into the country illegally become "illegals") as a way to distance ourselves. We need to realize that WE are "the poor" and then do something about it.

We can't all be upper-middle class, rich or billionaires, but I believe it is possible for every single person, family, and neighborhood to live above the poverty line, which for 2011 was a $22,350 for a family of four.

Politicians? Let's start with that, k?

FtLoTV: The Half-Hour Comedy (Sitcom)

(I finally did it guys! First real post in the series. Better late than never right? LOL!)

Remember Friends? You know, the delightful, laugh-out-loud, ensemble-cast, scripted, situational comedy (sitcom) that aired for 10 years? I know you remember the back and forth of Ross & Rachel's romance, when Chandler & Monica finally came out of the closet, the realization that Phoebe might be normal once we met her twin sister Ursula, and the "How you doin'?" that was Joey's signature phrase. You know you know all the words to, "I'll Be There For You." You've even got the timing of the clap. You saw the series finale, the 236th episode, full of babies, laughter and a hint of sadness. I mean, how sad was it when they left Monica's apartment for the last time? And how relieved were you when you found out that Ross and Rachel finally got it right?

Yes, I am writing about these fictional characters as if they were real people, still living their lives, albeit without the camera lens, simultaneously the microscope and the window into their world, pointed in their direction. But that's the point isn't it? Sometimes television is SO GOOD that you get invested.

Friends is hands-down one of the most successful sitcoms in the history of television. Hell, each of the six main cast members were bringing in ONE MILLION DOLLARS PER EPSIODE in the final season. If you do a little math: 18 episodes x 6 million dollars = 108 million dollars paid in the final season for the principal cast ALONE--- and remember, this money is for 22 minutes of screen time.

Money aside, clearly both the network (NBC) and the viewers thought this was quality--- dare I say it?--- GREAT television. Nowadays, sitcoms seem few and far between, at least the good ones. The 80's, 90's and early 2000's were chock full.* There was:

Mad About You, Boy Meets World, 3rd Rock from the Sun, 8 Simple Rules, Cheers, Dougie Houser, Full House, Fresh Prince, The Parkers, The Steve Harvey Show, Golden Girls, Hanging with Mr. Cooper, Just Shoot Me, Better Off Ted, Living Single, Married With Children, The Nanny, Reba, Martin, My Name is Earl, Home Improvement, Becker, Girlfriends, Everybody Hates Chris, Dharma & Greg, The Cosby Show, A Different World, Scrubs, Sister Sister, Will & Grace, What I Like About You, Veronica's Closet, Frasier, etc.

... just to name a few. And all these shows ran for at least three seasons, something many shows these days are finding hard to do.

So what is it? Is the sitcom dying? I think not. There are some good sitcoms on TV, especially with the influx of new blood in the Fall 2011 season.

So here it is: the good, the bad, the ugly, and the GREAT.**

The GOOD

Raising Hope. I must admit, when I saw the write-up for this last year, I was not impressed. Considering the premise was that a serial killer got knocked up by an average 25 year-old Joe, who, when she was executed, had to take care of the baby, I did not see how the show could last. There are only so many episodes in that storyline. But all it took was one episode and I was hooked. And considering it's in it's second season, I guess a lot of other people were too.

Honorable Mentions: Whitney, The Big Bang Theory, New Girl

The BAD

Two and a Half Men. I never really watched it regularly before the Charlie Sheen fiasco, but I thought I'd give Ashton Kutcher a try. And while I admire the almost seamless replacement of the lead character, it's still not that funny. Perhaps it's like Seinfield and I just don't get it. And I guess sometimes, there's a joke in there that makes me say, "Ha. That was funny."*** But honestly, I just usually end up turning the channel.

Seriously sad: How To Be A Gentleman

THE UGLY

House of Payne. Though it does seem to be getting better, no one wants to watch someone make a complete ass of themselves EVERY EPISODE.**** It physically hurts. And immediately the viewer has to change the channel to something even SLIGHTLY less idiotic for fear of getting stupider.*****

Disgust: Meet the Browns (Really, Tyler Perry needs to do better.)

THE GREAT

If someone asked me, right now, what my favorite comedy on television was I'd have to say,

How I Met Your Mother

Why, you ask? Because not only is it GREAT television, (both the writing and the acting are superb!), but the lives of the characters are so outrageous, they are actually kind of relatable. And Neil Patrick Harris is so awesome in his role as Barney, sometimes I forget he's not actually his character. Plus, the writers weave in long-lasting storylines that sometime come up seasons later. LOVE IT!



Honorable Mentions: 2 Broke Girls, Happy Endings (it's the dialogue!), Cougar Town

Now, the two glaring omissions are Modern Family and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia which apparently go into the GREAT category, but there isn't enough time in the day to watch the many, many seasons I'm behind. So I'll take the word of their many fans :)


Opinions? Agree or Disagree? Sound off in the comment section. 2000 points for anyone who responds with a TV show they'd like me to rate or a question to answer :)

TTFN!

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* The late 90's, early 2000's were, in my opinion, the golden era for black sitcoms. We should simultaneously thank and kick the WB and the CW for this era and it's downfall. Way to sell out guys!)

** This list does not include: Premium channel sitcoms (which are more 'dramedy' anyway) or animated shows, like Futurama, Drawn Together or Allen Gregory which are all awesome, by the way.

*** If something's sort of funny, I usually just state it. If I actually laugh out loud, then it's either really corny, or extremely hilarious. Those around me can usually tell the difference.

**** Embarass him/herself? YES. We eat that -ish up and think 'oh, I'm so glad that would never happen to me.' But act like a buffoon? NO. When it becomes so dumb that it's painful to watch, I wanna throw up a little in my mouth.

***** Yes, I know "stupider" is not a real word.

Small Child

It's early here. So early that the sun's not quite a sun, only light.
And it's cold. Cold enough that the edges of my window have registered the frost.

But it's quiet. So quiet without the noise of little one, the pitter-patter of
little feet on the hardwood floor. And suddenly I'm sad, bereft.

It doesn't last long. The sun is out. And the little one is here.
It's not so quiet now. And suddenly I miss the quiet of early morning,

and the frost on my windows. I close my eyes and
I imagine what my life would be like without him.

And I smile when I open my eyes and he is there.

Kenny

I saw him once. Well, to say it was once
would neither be accurate nor true.

I saw him many times, across from me
but only for that season. I wondered
about him; who he was and where he was
from. I made up stories in my head to
pass the time, lonely time, when I was sad.

I wonder: did I sit there on purpose?
Did I know "he" was what I needed then?
When I was sad and he was there and I
could dream? Create a fiction in my mind?
Perfection imagined and therefore safe.

He helped me. I know, because I made it.
I passed. And I did not cry. Not even once.

Reverie

Sometimes
when I close my eyes and I drift off
to that faraway place I dream of
white silk and blue satin,

of horses,
of champagne flutes teetering on haystacks,
and photographs in sun-streaked autumn.

Of slobbery dog kisses and
the need for front-wheel drive and riding lawnmowers.

And fresh, wet earth and cool, clean air,
And more than enough space to think.

Sometimes,
when I close my eyes and I drift off
to that faraway place I dream of
baby‘s breath and honeysuckle,

of sunlight and rain,
fall and spring,
and grinning until my cheeks hurt.

Mostly though, it seems
I dream of dreams.

Two Things... Well Three Things Really

Numero Uno:
I have some fun ideas for the next couple of blog posts, one of them being the actual completion of at least one show synopsis in my FtLoTV (For the Love of TV) series. YAY!! Another one is a poem I've been working on when I can't sleep at night (like now). And last but not least, it is definitely time for another hotnessincelebrityform entry. I'm going to do a few of those since there's a LOT of hott guys on TV in the summer :)

So watch out for those entries!

Numero Dos:
Another entry is going to be a little more personal---- think love life, people! But to do this, I need to have a more accurate list of who I've dated/crushed on in the many years I've been alive. SO, I need your HELP. Call/text/email/facebook/carve it in stone/write in the comment section (only if you feel I won't be TOO embarrassed) the NAMES of the random people I've crushed on SINCE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. Yeah, that's right. I'm going ALL THE WAY BACK.

I've crushed on a lot of people so I need you guys to rack your brain and sus out some names, especially some obscure ones you think I may have forgotten :)

Numero Tres:
I've decided to do a little honest Q & A. So here's your chance to ask me anything. And as long as it's within sight distance of reasonable, I'll answer it in a blog post. This is for all those people who've been wondering about the intricacies of my life (i.e. thedeepstuff) but haven't had the nerve to ask me any questions. You know, because my life is SO interesting. Right. LOL. But seriously, ask away (in the comment section)!

So there you have it. Expect some updates soon. Now do your homework and leave me some comments people!

Love :)

For the Love of TV: Introduction

So two things you should know about me if you don't already:

1) I LOVE TELEVISION.

Like seriously. Notice I did not write, "I like to watch TV." or "I love watching my favorite television shows." It goes deeper than that. I like the art of television. Dialogue, character placement, setting, plot, the turn of a phrase, comedic timing. There's bad television, good television and GREAT television. (And then there's the stuff that's so bad, it's good. And no, I'm not talking about reality TV. Reality TV is always bad. Or rather, I've never watched a reality TV show that didn't want to make me turn it off at some point because of it's sheer stupidity.)

2) I love, love love love, love when fiction makes me want to believe its real. In other words, the best books, the best films, the best TELEVISION will leave me wanting to live, work, eat and sleep in whatever world the writer has provided.

Now, of course this happens in varying degrees--not all works of art are created equal-- but for the most part, I can see the appeal in almost any television show. And sometimes, I can even tell if that appeal will make the show a hit or a miss.

So, for those of you who read my weekly? ramblings, I'm going to pretend that I have my dream job (at least at the moment) for the next few weeks and talk about one of my passions: GREAT TELEVISION.

Now to talk about great television, one must also talk about bad television, so you'll great a glimpse at both ends of the spectrum, and hopefully, some stuff in between. So, if you love TV like I do, or even, as one friend of mine put it, "tolerate it despite the drivel that it is," hopefully you'll find these posts interesting.

NOTE: I'm totally up for ideas as well! Any television show you want me to review? Any character you want me to analyze? Or wonder if I'd date? (LOL) Let me know IN THE COMMENT SECTION. (Love you Dwayne!)

Ta Ta for now!

"Write 400 words (or less) on your ideal place [to live]."

So, a friend of mine prompted the readers of her blog to write about their ideal place to live after the subject came up in her life--twice in one week. So here goes. It's probably very different than what she intended, but one must go where the words takes them.

_____

There are no sad and quiet people here.

The air is clear and clean, the water calm and warm. The temperature always matches the light of the sun. Trees find themselves green without trying. Flowers bloom without challenge; bees don't sting.

Seasons are so crisp here. The changing of the colors is a vibrant affair. The snow melts on the tongues of children and falls in flakes the size of closed eyelids. Summer comes often. Heat and breeze are in consummate harmony. Spring brings back birds of every color that algor took away.

It's soft. Light is temperate. All noise, dulcet. Movement, unpretentious and rhythmical. No sense is ever harmed, no practice overwhelms. But the people are loud and happy, full of life and purpose.

Night is conclusive to day. Darkness holds no sinister plans; no egregious dealings go on in dusk. Darkness is not the absence of light, but the rest of it. The balance of dark and light for rests’ sake.

No true measure of time exists here, only the sensation of moments both here and then, now and always. This does not bother the loud and happy people. They rejoice. For they knew it once when it was different, when it was worse and they were sad and quiet.

And there are no sad and quiet people here.

_____

1000 points if you let me know what you think.

Ultra-Violet, Gattaca & The Science of Humanity

Transhumanism is an international intellectual movement supporting the use of science and technology to improve human mental and physical characteristics and capacities. The movement regards aspects of the human condition, such as disability, suffering, disease, aging, and involuntary death as unnecessary and undesirable.

In other words, with the help of both science and technology, humans may be able to transform themselves into persons with such expanded abilities as to merit the label "posthuman."

Gattaca and Ultraviolet are two films which discuss the notion of transhumanism in great length, albeit in very different ways. Gattaca (1997), a movie which won both Best Film and Best Original Soundtrack in the Sitges-Catalonian International Film Festival, takes a very direct approach in bringing to light the troublesome debate of the genetic divide. Ultraviolet (2006), on the other hand, which I attribute almost entirely to its' weird comic book-y vibe, chooses the overplayed, slightly supernatural route and dumbs down its' transhumanistic debate by focusing less on the science, and more on the good-vs. evil debate. Still, questions of "What is human?" and "What is not?" are raised and somewhat answered.

Ultraviolet takes place in the year 2078, in the years following a global pandemic of a lab-engineered, blood-borne, highly infectious disease known as hemoglophagia. Those afflicted with the disease are referred to as "hemophages". The disease kills the infected within twelve years, but also gives them super-human abilities as well as elongated fang-like canine teeth, leading the media to call them vampires. Fear overwhelmed the population and led to the rise of the Arch-Ministry, a militant medical establishment which took control of the government and began rounding up and exterminating all infected citizens in order to contain the virus.

Due to virus' transformation of human body, Violet Song jat Shariff (Milla Jovovich), is now a ruthless killing machine with only days left to live due to her terminal-stage hemoglophagia. She is hired by an underground resistance movement of hemophages waging a guerrilla war against the Arch-Ministry. Infiltrating a government laboratory, Violet steals a weapon developed by the Arch-Ministry to exterminate all hemophages on the planet, only to discover the "weapon" is a child named "Six." Six is believed to be a carrier for cultured antigens developed to target hemophages, which Violet's employers want destroyed. Violet breaks ranks with the hemophages and flees with the boy, believing that a cure for the disease can be reverse-engineered from the antigens.

In Gattaca, Ethan Hawke is Vincent, an "In-Valid" or "faith-born" who becomes a

"borrowed-ladder" by assuming the identity of a genetically superior, but crippled man, Jerome (Jude Law), in order to fulfill his dream of space travel. In a world, where genetics, rather than race or social class, determine one's advancement in society, Vincent's dream is impossible without this fraud. A week shy of his launch date, his director is murdered and an errant eyelash may prove his downfall. Marked as a suspect, Vincent must now up his deception and evade both a relentless investigator and a beautiful college (Uma Thurman) in order to keep his mission.

Both these films ask and seem to answer the question of whether or not genetic engineering is positive for society with a resounding no. Gattaca makes it quite clear that it could create a two-tiered society of genetically-engineered "haves" and genetically inferior "have

nots," confering additional power upon the already powerful and wealthy. Ultraviolet warns of the consequences of genetic engineering for the purpose of "supering" the human race--society-wide fear of those considered less than human. And both films deal with the severe loss of rights and privacy in these new world systems.

But enough with the heavy stuff. On the enjoyment side, if you haven't seen these two movies, you're somewhat missing out. What Ultraviolet may lack in plot, it tries to make up for in action. It does okay. Gattaca, however is the true gem. Though not a box office hit, it puts the intellectual back in movies. And with great performances by Ethan Hawke, Uma Thurman, and Jude Law, you won't be bored.

Luckily, they're both free on Hulu :)

** Information contained in this review comes from a variety of sources including Wikipedia (transhumanism, Gattaca, Ultraviolet), IMDB and Gattaca's official website.

Changing it Up... read (and comment) on the first short story I've written in years...

Karen sat on the red and white couch in the back of the room. She was nervous. No one spoke and the room was quiet, still. She wondered how long this was going to take. She didn’t know the procedure, what to expect in situations like this. She’d only heard about it in passing.

The others were afraid to be near her, she was sure. Instead of the usual joviality, she was greeted with small smiles and slightly turned backs. No one seemed to have enough courage to greet her normally. What could they have said? She wondered. The right side of her brain kicked into overdrive as she thought of ways she might comfort a grieving widow. At twenty-six years old, she had thought she was years from this pain, years from having to bury her husband.

Kevin thought he had more time. He’d even planned a ski vacation for them this winter. She’d never been to Vail and had wanted to go ever since she’d overheard her high school classmates talking about the “super awesome slopes” they had there. She’d barely remembered her desire when her sister brought it up. He’d included Hannah in the planning and left the information at her house in case Karen discovered it by accident. Now she wondered who she’d go with. She didn’t have the heart to cancel the trip when Kevin had so meticulously planned it.

He’d been in remission for the past two years and without warning, he was back in and out of the hospital again. This time the cancer was stage three. It wasn’t responding to the chemo. Three months later, stage four hit and the doctor said he had less than two months to live.

“Karen? It’s time.” Hannah broke her from her reverie. It was time for the grand march. She called it that ever since she was a small child. To her, a funeral procession looked much the same as a parade’s marching band, complete with costume hats.

She stared straight ahead. She’d toyed with the idea of having a closed casket ceremony— Kevin was always a private person— but decided against it. God forbid someone should think, years later that he died in some horrible plane crash because she kept the casket closed.

She was here now, standing in front of him. She couldn’t help but wonder how the funeral home determined the height at which one should be shown off. She thought he was a bit too low, that he might scare his nieces and nephews who didn’t understand the difference between the lie their parents told them and the reality and inevitability of death. For a split second, she smiled as she pictured little Imogen poking at him. “Wae up, Unca ’Evin. Wae up. ’Ap time is ’ova.”

She hadn’t cried yet. She’d thought it premature to grieve while she could still see him, touch him. She wouldn’t cry tonight either. Too many people around. She thought that the best time to start her grieving would be the day after tomorrow. When people stopped calling her to determine her mental state or ask whether or not she was sleeping. She would not grieve like an old woman. She would grieve quickly and quietly. There would be none of this no showering business. She would continue to wash her dishes and eat her vegetables. She would not let herself go. She would go back to work in two weeks. No more, no less.

She was standing again, Hannah’s arm around her shoulder. She’d closed her eyes for the entire service. It was time for food and fellowship, the upside to funeral services. She took one last look at the casket, at him. Kevin would be cremated tomorrow as he wished. It was a decision with which she did not agree, but chose to acquiesce in this final act as his wife. It was the least she could do, she thought.