Bringing Change (Change I didn't even promise!)

That's right, ladies and gentlemen.

Not one day on the job and I have brought Change to the 3rd floor as King of DVD/Bluray Land. CHANGE! (And not simply the change I deliver to the visitors to DVD/Bluray Land when they purchase my subjects as slaves, using cash money.)

Today I was shown the ropes. All the duties I would be preforming as King (also known as not-actually-a-lead DVD/Music lead).

My first act (after learning said duties) was bringing Change to the third floor. Horrible, horrible, change.

It wasn't even my idea. It was God's (also known as the third floor manager). God spoke down upon me, saying, "Perhaps we should move the Blurays."

You see, all has not been well in DVD/Bluray Land. All the Bluray people have been held prisoner, kept captive behind the counter. This is for two reasons. Because there is not enough space in the rest of my moderately-sized kingdom for them to live and because it keeps them away from the Vikings that enter our store, stealing and raping the more expensive peoples... like the Bluray race.

Today, God said down unto me, that perhaps we could move the Bluray people out into the kingdom, freeing them from their prison behind mine royal counter (That is not a typo. By saying "Mine" instead of "My" it simply sounds more royal, don't yine think [again, Yine sounds more royal than mine, don't yine think?]?).

He said that, perhaps the people of Bluray would be more easily sold as slaves if they were more easily browsed out in the kingdom. And rightfully so. It is hard to pick a good slave from over a counter. Especially if you are not sure which slave you have come for and you simply wish to browse slaves.

Yes. Such Change I would bring to the people. My first day, and I am vowing to close down a prison! Always a smart decision for a ruler to make.

Alas, the prison could not be closed (Who saw that coming? Not my nonexistant advisers! That's for sure!). Because, in order to free the Bluray people, other people would have to take their place. Fore there is simply not enough space in the kingdom unless some subjects are kept in prison (wouldn't that be a nice reversal, California?).

Who better than the DVD people of the Health/Fitness and Music/Performance tribes? Because who the fuck goes to Barnes and Noble to buy a workout DVD or a DVD of Madonna's latest concert?

So, like Jean Luc Picard, I made it so!

We began the great exodus. A moving of peoples. First, we had to shift the DVD tribes of Health/Fitness and Music/Performance out of their homes. Needless to say, it went much smoother than the events of District 9.

Such Change required all the tribes of the DVD people be relocated. All must loose the homes they resided for generations for the greater good. I am such a mighty king that the suffering of my people does not cause me to loose sight of this greater good.

For you see, the people of Bluray were to be located to the left side of the oval that is the kingdom of DVD/Bluray Land. For it is here that they can be most easily watched by their divine ruler, so that Vikings do not pillage and rape them (some Vikings do have penis [Penises? Peni?] of such a small sized that they literally can have sex with a Bluray, though the results ain't pretty! Trust me on that one [I love Blurays soooo much {And with that little joke, I have finally crossed the invisible, arbitrary line of what is acceptable and what goes too far}!]!).

The right side of the kingdom, where the Tribes of Health/Fitness and Music/Performance tribes lived for generation upon generation, are in a blind spot where I cannot protect my peoples (because honestly, who would steal this garbage?). So they were moved out and all other tribes were shifted right to make room for the people of Bluray! For they are my chosen people! Who I love above all else (I would make a great God...[aka Manager...])!

So, I brought great Change to today!

Great Change that I could not complete....

So, tomorrow, either the Change is done when I arrive or I must complete it! But at least Change has begun!

And for someone who never promised to bring Change at all, that ain't half bad.

Proving I'm not Racist.

So I had an unfortunate... incident... last week.

Involving racism.

My own racism.

It was, you know, one of them unfortunate incidents that makes you reexamine everything about yourself, causing you to doubt who you are, put a Colt Detective Special in your mouth, and pussy out before you can pull the mutha' fuckin' trigger (like Riggs. It's ironic really, the whole gun in the mouth incident was what convinced me I had something left to live for because I realized I was like Mel Gibson and I thought that was really swell. Then I realized being like Mel meant that I was racist again, causing me to doubt who I was and reinsert the gun which made me happy because I again was able to compare myself to Mel Gibson by way of Martin Riggs. It was a confusing and unending cycle that lasted for hours and eventually prevented me from killing myself because I eventually fell asleep). We've all had moments like that.

But I digress. Here's the incident...

I was in my Seminar in TV Writing class, where we write spec scripts and what not, just kidding ourselves, pretending to be filmmakers before we hit the cruel, real world where an ordinary business man won't give a second thought to raping you in the ass (it's hard being a man with the threat of anal rape in Obama's America).

Anyway, I was in this class where someone was pitching a SOUTH PARK script. Her script was a little flat with no real point, and I was explaining that even when South Park appears to be about something of little insignificant it's usually actually about some bigger important event or message. Whatever the boys are involved in is usually a metaphor for something bigger and more important. And then came my fucking stupid, accidentally racist comment...

"You know, like maybe you think an episode is just about poop, and in the end it's really about... about...I don't know... a black president."

Jesus-titty-fucking-Christ. I had just accidentally compared a piece of poop to President Barack Obama. On the surface, that's pretty bad, but when you begin to analyze that comparison it is much worse. My accidentally racist comment was clever enough that I equated the color of skin to the color of poop. I had effectively called black people poop.

I was going to put a picture of poop here, but the images that come up when you do a google image search of poop are just too disgusting. So, instead, I included a picture of someone who is about as a talented as a pice of poop.

Aye caramba.

There is a black guy in the class (African American? Does saying Black make me more racist? Does worrying about the terminology make me even more racist? Yes, until I explain my way out of it all at the end). He had been the one to react first with a nervous laugh (the rest the class followed). The teacher, my favorite teacher, who knows me pretty well, kinda covered for me, saying that that one "got away from me. "

I began to worry, do I apologize to the black (African American?) student? I'd be singling him out as the only black student... Is that even worse? Is the fact I even notice he's black make me even more racist (I hadn't noticed he was black till after he was the first to nervously laugh, to be fair. I swear!). I decided the best plan of action was to ignore the whole thing happened, as did the rest of the class (I was a little more friendly to the black student, laughing at more of his jokes and what-not. God Damn, I'm racist). But you know they were all thinking, my teacher included, "Holy Shit, Nick is a mutha' fuckin' racist piece of shit! That explains that unexplainable feeling of disgust I had toward him ever since I first met him."

I didn't think a whole lot about it that class period, comfortable that I was not racist because I had never intentionally said anything racist. For fuck's sake I voted for Obama! The man is half-black!

Barack Obama: Every White Person's Proof that they are not Racist since 2006

That night though, the seriousness of the situation really set in. The fact that it was an accident makes me MORE racist. That means I'm thinking racist, subconsciously. I mean, some Southern blowhard just says racist things cause it's "cool" as he sucks down his Virginia Slims (also "cool") before he sucks his buddies dick/penis/cock (super "cool" down South, or so Billy Bob's best buddy Billy Joe claimed that one faithful night that changed their friendship forever). To be intentionally racist doesn't mean you are racist, it just means you're trying to keep up an image. To act all cool, "I love black people. I voted for mutha' fuckin' Barack Obama, bitch!" and then think racist thoughts deep down in the very soul of you makes you very, very racist.

Virginia Slims will make you "8O's cool."

So I came to conclusion that I was very, very racist, which lead me to the Martin Rigg's Colt Detective Special moment already touched on.

And then a few days later... came salvation!

I was in the grocery parking lot, just having narrowly avoided a car accident when I realized I also hate Asian people.

You may be saying, "Nick, how does hating Asian people make you NOT Racist? If anything, that makes you MORE Racist."

"Aha!" I say, let me explain further.

"Alright," you say, "But I'm still not convinced. This better not be a fucking waste of my time."

Anyway, before you so rudely interrupted...

I realized I hate Asians. Then I began to really think about all the different races and ethnicitys and nationalities...

I realized I also hate Mexicans. And Jews. And Arabs. And Indians (which are technically Asian when you think about it). And Native Americans (which are sometimes called Indians, which I guess would make them technically Asian as well). And every other race you can think of.

I even hate Whites. I hate them soooo much!

Ta Da! Salvation!

I realized in that moment that redefined who I was, that I don't hate Black People! I HATE PEOPLE (which I guess actually DOES include hating Black People, but I'm not singling anyone out is the point). I hate all people of all shapes, religions, colors, and intelligence levels. Hating everyone EQUALLY keeps me from being a racist.

This is what America is all about. Equality. And by hating everyone, I am not only not racist, but I am also more American.

So, sure I compare a black person to poop. I would compare a white person to bird shit mixed with ejaculate.

So by hating everyone, I keep myself in the clear. Postponing thoughts of suicide for a few more days...

Huzah!

I still wounld't date a black chick though cause they're just not attractive.