Showing posts with label Africa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Africa. Show all posts

Saturday, April 13, 2019

"Cecil's Pride" by The Hatkoff Family


BOOK TITLE: Cecil’s Pride: The True Story of a Lion King
AUTHORS: The Hatkoff Family
YEAR: 2016
GENRE: Nonfiction
SUBGENRE: Lion Biography
GRADE: Extra Credit

When Cecil the Lion was heartlessly killed by a trophy hunter, it sparked worldwide outrage and rightfully so. The subsequent debate on animal welfare and wildlife conservation led to new laws being put in place to protect future generations of lions. But to fully understand how important these new protections are, we must first understand how Cecil lived his life as the king of his pride. He wasn’t just a random animal. He was a loving protector and a social creature at heart. May he rest peacefully and may his pride continue his majestic bloodline.

Instead of just a barebones biography, Cecil’s story was treated as an actual story with a beginning, middle, and end. He was portrayed as a three-dimensional character with his strengths, flaws, and lovability. He fought other animals when his pride was threatened and he ran away only when necessary. And because lions like Cecil are social creatures, they bond with other prides for the sake of protection. This is a classic storytelling technique: two factions banding together to fight off a stronger villain. And when Cecil is eventually killed, the reader will care that much more about him. It was already an angering story to hear about on the news, but to see it in this book is that much more heartbreaking. Cecil’s portrayal as a regal figure and a dynamic character in a much larger story is what makes this book special enough to deserve an extra credit grade.

In addition to employing storytelling techniques, this book also has an educational side to it. Because these two qualities work side-by-side with each other, it’ll be a guaranteed hit with students of all ages. You’ll learn why lions are important to Africa’s ecosystem. You’ll learn why they attract so many mates at a time. You’ll even learn a few statistics about animal extinction and why conservation is more important now than it has been in the past. Education shouldn’t stop when school is over. You can get more out of this book than just trivial facts. You can learn empathy. You can learn how to be an activist. You can do some good in this world with these forty pages shaping your mind. Put down the hunting rifle. Put down the bow and arrow. The only shooting you should be doing is with a high shutter speed camera.

Speaking of which, the lion photographs in this book are magnificent to look at. Cecil looks like a proud king when he watches over his families. His cubs look like little cuties when they practice their roars. His lionesses look seductive when lying about with their mates. Cecil even looks alert and ready to protect his pack when he’s doing something as mundane as drinking from the river. The African landscape is more than just a place for wild animals to do battle. It’s a kingdom. It’s an empire. It’s a society that must be protected from the cruelty of guns and crossbows. These pictures do the lions justice a hundred times over. Even the drawings have that kind of power over the reader.

It’s easy to balk at this book for being targeted towards small children. There are also a few who will contrast Cecil’s death to those of aborted fetuses. There are even those who question why lion lives matter to begin with. To those who would easily brush this book aside, I say give it one chance to change your heart. It’s forty pages and it’s mostly pictures. You’re not sacrificing much when picking this book up for a quick read. If anything, you’ll be better off for the experience. Keep your eyes and mind open and you’ll want to give this book an extra credit grade as well.

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

Disaster Porn


OPENING DIALOGUE
ADULT: You know, Chud, Japan was hit with an earthquake, Haiti was hit with an earthquake, there are wars going on in Iraq and Afghanistan, there’s starvation happening all over Africa…and you’re complaining about your love life? Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk!

VERSE 1
Not once have I thought of a starving African teen
And had all my nightmares turn into sweet dreams
Not once have I pictured bullets flying in the desert
And had all my struggles turn into minimal effort
Not once have I envisioned a high Richter scale
And had all my bad thoughts crash and derail
It’s not perspective, it’s goddamn disaster porn
Making you feel guilty for the way you were born

CHORUS
It doesn’t matter if someone has it worse
The pain inside will always fucking burn
The bleeding heart will always fucking hurt
Perspective doesn’t help get us out of hell

VERSE 2
There’s no true answer to what we all need
Whether it’s exercising until our bodies bleed
Meditation until our minds have gone numb
A college schedule to prove we’re all dumb
Soap carving, basket weaving, clay sculptures
Something to remember when we get older
There’s no one solution for everybody here
Everybody’s different when it comes to fear

CHORUS
It doesn’t matter if someone has it worse
The pain inside will always fucking burn
The bleeding heart will always fucking hurt
Perspective doesn’t help get us out of hell

VERSE 3
If I had a child, I wouldn’t feed him world crises
I’d listen to his every word, that’s fucking likely
Have an open door policy even when he grows up
Soothe his anxiety when he wants to throw up
Soothe his traumas when there’s too much drama
Ease his mind when faith is hardest to find
Building up kids is easier than repairing adults
It could be too late to erase every last insult

CHORUS
It doesn’t matter if someone has it worse
The pain inside will always fucking burn
The bleeding heart will always fucking hurt
Perspective doesn’t help get us out of hell

CLOSING DIALOGUE
ADULT: You know, Chud, if you don’t want your dinner, I could always send it to China and…
CHILD: Shut the fuck up!

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Black Panther


MOVIE TITLE: Black Panther
DIRECTOR: Ryan Coogler
YEAR: 2018
GENRE: Superhero
RATING: PG-13 for violence and language
GRADE: Extra Credit

The secret African nation of Wakanda harvests a powerful mineral called vibranium and uses the unstable element as the basis for all of their technology. Part of their technological advancements include an impenetrable superhero suit for the king of Wakanda, T’Challa a.k.a. Black Panther. A mysterious black American soldier named Erik “Killmonger” Stevens wants the vibranium for himself so that he can carry out his own political agenda. The power struggle between Black Panther and Killmonger runs deeper than just superficial greed. Revenge, revolution, and altruism are at the heart of this battle in which loyalties will be tested on both sides of the equation.

The main reason this movie gets an extra credit grade is because of how strongly black people are portrayed. Representation matters, especially in a world where racism and classism governs every part of American life. The audience will love the Black Panther character for more reasons than just being a kick-ass superhero. There’s a struggle within him that’s more taxing than the physical battles he endures. He wants to be a good king to his people, but a small part of him wants to share his loyalty with the entire world despite protests from his own subjects. This dynamic between selfishness and altruism is something we all have to consider in our lives. We need to have empathy for each other if our world is going to know true peace and the director seems to agree with that sentiment. Blood begets more blood and love begets more love. Underneath all of the action-packed fight scenes, the truth resides, though some people aren’t ready to hear that truth, which is why we have the bloodbaths we have today.

But of course, if the power struggle is to be believed, then the villain must buy into his own hype and make a strong case for it. That’s exactly what Killmonger does and the actor’s portrayal of such is to be praised. Killmonger wants revenge on a world that looks down upon him with racist bigotry. He wants to overthrow entire governments just so he can flash a middle finger to the man. It goes to show that even in a superhero movie like this, there are shades of gray in between the two extremes. The audience actually has to think for themselves and decide what is right. I hate power hungry oligarchs as much as anybody, but do we need constant assassinations left and right? It’s easy to give into the dark side when anger becomes your driving force. Be better than that. I’m begging you.

No matter what side King T’Challa takes, he’s going to have to pay his dues with one hundred percent interest. Just because he’s a superhero, doesn’t mean he’s not vulnerable to losing every now and then. Physical strength and godlike endurance can only take a man so far. It’s what’s on the inside that will bring him to any victories he needs. Anybody can throw a spear. Anybody can shoot a machinegun. But the real enemy must be conquered from within and that takes more strength than a bullet can provide. Some people don’t have that strength and they either meet an early death or they cross the moral event horizon themselves. Can Black Panther pass his own moral test? Buy a ticket and see for yourself.

In the same way that Wonder Woman was empowering to females, Black Panther is empowering for black people. While it’s nice to live vicariously through the titular superhero, it’s what we do in the real world that will make the biggest difference. What will you do to make a change? Will your actions be more powerful than a lead bullet? Will you become superhuman by virtue of your work towards a better day? Black Panther will steer you in the right direction and for that it gets an extra credit grade.

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Lions

VERSE 1
Elmer Fudd is hunting for blood
He’s about to be peeled like a spud
Lion claws will rip out his intestines
Cockroaches will feast on the infection
You fuck with nature, you get the fangs
Your spine will snap with the loudest bang
Your ribs will crack like shattered glass
Vultures will devour your lifeless ass

CHORUS
Lions! X4

VERSE 2
The lion’s den is far off limits
You won’t last two fucking minutes
Bring your rifles, bring your buddies
Doesn’t mean shit, you goddamn dummy
A pile of bones picked squeaky clean
A trail of blood to decorate this scene
Splattered brains the size of green peas
Shredded skin blown away in the breeze

CHORUS
Lions! X4

VERSE 3
If you hunt for fun, your life is done
Rotting into shit underneath the sun
Mother Nature wants her planet back
The lions want to roll with the pack
A trophy doesn’t mean a damn thing
Who the fuck died and made you king?
I hope you brought your screaming voice
Fuck with animals and you’ve got no choice

EXTENDED CHORUS
Lions! Lions!
Gatekeepers to your burning hell!
Lions! Lions!
Dead humans leave a rancid smell!
Lions! Lions!
Don’t shit where the creatures dwell!
Lions! Lions!

Pray for your own necromantic spell!

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Ninja

The rain poured down on the helpless African diamond miners like the tears of those sent to heaven by Andrew Bradley’s bullets and grenades. A whole line of skinny workers were on their knees with their arms bound behind their backs and their heads down in shame. Some of them were so skinny that their bones were visible. Some of them didn’t have arms or hands. Some of them were as young as seven years old. All of them shivered at both the sensation of cold rain and the fear of the mercenary for hire standing behind them with an AK-47 in hand.

“Alright, you little wankers, listen up!” said Andrew Bradley in his tone-deaf English accent. “I came here for one reason and one reason only: the Ninja Ruby is here in this exact diamond mine. I’d better get some answers as to where the hell it is or else all of you are getting bullets! Not excuses, not questions, but bullets! Bullets in your head! Bullets in your back! Bullets up your arse!”

With his muscular and hairy body, black tank top, camouflage pants, and eye patch over his right eye, Andrew was a specimen of intimidation. The worst part about that? He could back it up. When he wasn’t getting answers from the bound up miners, he took the butt of his rifle and smashed it in the back of a random worker’s head. The worker screamed in pain as he laid on the ground with his wound bleeding like crazy.

“Consider that your final warning, you little twerps! If I don’t hear an answer soon, I’m going to start shooting!” screamed Andrew as he fired his automatic rifle in the sky and laughed his ass off.

And then a shuriken flew past the scene and lopped off the tip of the AK-47. Another one flew past and exploded the ammo card. One more flew by and was centimeters away from taking off Andrew’s trigger finger if he didn’t drop his weapon in time.

One of the workers smiled up at Andrew and said, “You want to know where the Ninja Ruby is? You can find it on that cave. There’s just one problem: you won’t make it out alive!”

“Is that a threat? Huh? Is that a threat?!” Andrew roared when he pulled out a bowie knife and held it to the smiling worker’s throat. “You’d better wipe that god-awful grin off your face or else you’ll get a Columbian necktie! We’ll see if you’ll be smiling after that!”

A blowgun dart whizzed by and struck Andrew in his thick leg. He hopped away from the “smart-assed” worker and grimaced in pain. With one swift jerk, he pulled the dart from his leg and allowed it to bleed minimally. He stared down the cave with gritted yellow teeth and a death grip on his knife’s handle. “That’s it! You want to screw around with me! I’ll slash your fucking head off and drink your nigger blood!”

Andrew marched into the cave and lit up his club-like flashlight. No matter where he shined it, he couldn’t find even the slightest clue as to where the perpetrator might be. “Alright, you little pansy!” shouted the mercenary. “I’ve had just about enough of your smart-assed trickery! If you won’t come out of here with your hands raised to the sky, I’ll blast this goddamn cave back to the Stone Age! I’ve got enough dynamite in my truck to shake the entire earth to its core!”

“That won’t be necessary, my friend.” Andrew turned around and saw that the source of the deep-voiced dialogue came from a man dressed in multi-colored robes with a demon’s mask over his face and a katana in his hand. “My name is DJ Rouge. You wanted to know where the Ninja’s Ruby was. Here it is. Come and take it.” DJ removed his eye patch and revealed a beautiful red gem in his socket.

Andrew looked at the ruby with O-mouthed awe as it shined brightly enough to illuminate the whole cave. DJ pulled the gem out of his eye socket and threw it out of the entrance to the cave, darkening the atmosphere yet again except for Andrew’s flashlight. “What are you waiting for? Go fetch, you hideous dog!” said DJ.

“You cheeky little bastard!” yelled Andrew as he charged up to DJ while swinging wildly with his bowie knife and flashlight. Every blow he threw scraped dust off the cave walls and ground, sometimes even taking whole stones. But never once did Andrew hit his target, who was moving with acrobatic quickness and calm stealth.

“You can’t play defense forever, you little swine!” yelled Andrew. He was right. DJ slashed the mercenary’s flashlight in half with his blade and darkened the room once more. The only light remaining was at the entrance, which was still somewhat dim due to this cold weather. “Where are you?! Where are you, you little bastard?!” bellowed Andrew.

With darkness as his ally, DJ threw knees and elbows to Andrew’s ribs, stomach, and face. Each blow shook the brute’s body and made a resounding thud. But even with a few crunches here and there, Andrew boldly said, “Is that all you’ve got?!” DJ then threw a sweep kick and knocked the British warrior on his ass.

Instead of growling in pain, Andrew did so in frustration and got up immediately to throw random punches and kicks in the dark. Not one of them found its target and instead all he got were DJ’s kicks to his thick legs, almost buckling his knees. “Where are you, you little creep?!” yelled Andrew Bradley.

The mercenary threw another uppercut, but this time hit the ceiling with such force that a rock came down and bonked DJ Rouge on the head, prompting him to let out a small “Ow!” That one mistake was enough for Andrew to grab DJ around his throat and pin him against the wall with brutal force.

The mercenary squeezed with such force that he could feel DJ’s throat becoming thinner and his neck bones popping. “You hear that, you little shit?! That’s the sound of your own undoing! Are you ready to tap out?! Are you ready to give up?! Huh?! Huh?! HUH?!”

DJ was on the verge of passing out or having his neck snapped when the sound of a loud explosion boomed across the mine fields. Andrew’s grip weakened as he started to worry. “Oh no!” he yelled out before releasing the chokehold and running out of the mine. He could hear DJ coughing violently with bloodily, but the music to Andrew’s ears was ruined when he saw his truck bursting into flames.

“No! No, no, no!” yelled Andrew. He dropped to his knees and cried pathetically, though the African workers would have no sympathy for him. They stood around the explosion with their arms folded and their expressions angry.

“What was that you said about having enough explosions to shake the earth?” said one of the workers in a mocking tone.

“Oh, go to hell, you little jerk-offs!” cried Andrew. “All I wanted was a little ruby for my bosses! It wasn’t personal! It was just business!”

“Ruby? You mean this?” said the worker as he pulled out the brightly shining stone. “Go ahead. Take it. It’s yours.” Except he didn’t just hand it over. He threw the gem right into Andrew’s good eye and caused him to scream pathetically some more. His eye was squished like an olive and all he could do was roll around like a wounded animal.

And then the gem was ripped from Andrew’s good eye and a blade was held to his throat. DJ’s familiar voice said, “These people you held captive. They were never meant to be slaves for your corporate banks. I came here to free them. They’re not just ‘cheeky bastards’. They’re hard workers who deserve much better than the treatment you gave them today.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want! Just don’t hurt me! I’ll never come by here again!” pleaded Andrew.

“Anything I want, huh? Alright then. Tell me who you work for and I might let you go.”


The next morning at Babylon Bank, the chubby, white-haired CEO received a package in his office. He smiled at it with his saggy jowls and opened it up like it was a Christmas present. It was delivered by Andrew Bradley, so he was expecting a brightly shining Ninja Ruby. Instead all he got was pieces of Andrew’s hair and his heart. A bloody, sloppy heart that would have been cold even without the dry ice. The CEO screamed in a tone-deaf voice that would have woken up the dead, including Andrew Bradley.

Friday, May 15, 2015

Caribbean Cutthroats (DJ Rouge and Riff De La Luka)

CANON: Caribbean Cutthroat


NAME: DJ Rouge
AGE: 21
OCCUPATION: Cocaine Harvester


NAME: Riff De La Luka
AGE: 25
OCCUPATION: Street Guitarist


Let me ask you all a practical question. How is it that a West African drug worker (DJ Rouge) becomes part of a team called The Caribbean Cutthroats if those two locales are separated by a big fucking body of water like the Atlantic Ocean? Maybe Mr. Rouge is a Caribbean transplant. Either that or the whole thinking behind this would-be anime series was completely misguided and uneducated.

The idea for the weekly television show Caribbean Cutthroat was conceived after listening to “Peruvian Cocaine” by Immortal Technique and misinterpreting the lyrics. Immortal Technique is an articulate speaker; how exactly does someone like me misunderstand what he’s trying to say?

Because when I first heard the song, I was 19 years old and had the maturity of someone half my age, which meant no research and an unwise worldview. For further insight as to what the hell I was thinking, here’s how the series was supposed to go before I pulled the plug after two episodes.

For the first ten episodes of the anime series, DJ Rouge and Riff De La Luka were going to venture around the Caribbean and into South America drumming up as much cocaine business as possible. This unlikely pairing of the quiet and introverted sword-slinger DJ and the loudmouthed and boisterous capoeira fighter Riff had to constantly watch each other’s backs despite DJ being highly annoyed with his partner’s loud ways. American and Columbian assassins both wanted DJ and Riff’s heads on pikes. Sometimes the two governments had to compete with each other just to see who got the kill.

But DJ and Riff weren’t killed. They were sent to a Colorado prison for all of the drug charges as well as the murders of several government agents. The next ten episodes of Caribbean Cutthroat were supposed to document their time in jail. All the sodomy, all the beatings, and all the heartache of growing old behind bars would have made for a depressing anime series. Sadness and anime weren’t necessarily mutually exclusive, but this was taking it to an entirely different level. And this was going to be for ten whole thirty-minute episodes. That’s 300 minutes of brutal prison action. All for what? A small sense of false hope?

Even though only ten episodes were ordered for Caribbean Cutthroat’s prison point, several decades went by before DJ and Riff were released into American society. They could have been deported back to their respective home countries, but that would have actually made sense and my 19-year-old self wouldn’t have wanted it that way. Instead, old man Riff De La Luka, who somehow retained his positive charm throughout his many decades in prison, found delight in being a toilet cleaner for a local school. If he ever did have pain on the inside, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.

DJ Rouge made no attempt to hide his own pain. He was miserable upon being released. He somehow found work pumping gas despite the fact that he could never smile or put on a brave face for his customers. Naturally, he didn’t get any tips, only derision from the jerk-off customers. Even his boss thought he was too melodramatic.

All the rage and sorrow boiling inside DJ’s body would eventually explode in the final episode of Caribbean Cutthroat, where he would attempt to commit suicide and make a public example of himself in the process. He wanted his death to have a huge impact on society, but the one person who was finally able to talk him down was old man Riff De La Luka. It was Riff’s positive charm that bonded the two former drug runners together after all this time of being annoyed at each other.

Oh, and can you guess how many episodes were ordered just for this miserable display of sadness? Ten. Altogether, that’s 30 episodes building towards Riff and DJ finally becoming best of friends (Riff had no problems with their relationship, but DJ did). The first ten episodes were fun and adventurous. The next twenty episodes were about sorrow and pathos. You think any TV executive in Japan is going to take this would-be anime seriously enough to produce it? I don’t think so.

Even with all of my fantasies of publishing this anime under a new division of Gracie Films called Gracie Anime, it wasn’t going to unfold. The logo for Gracie Anime would have been a samurai shushing people with his katana instead of his finger while the words “Gracie Anime” would be superimposed on a full moon in the night sky. Good fantasy, but not good enough for reality.

DJ Rouge and Riff De La Luka need new jobs and those jobs aren’t cleaning toilets or pumping gas. They probably won’t be drug smugglers either. These two warriors are the closest things to gaijin samurais I have. Wait a minute. Gaijin samurai? Oh, that opens the door to a lot of possibilities! We already have street samurais in Shadowrun canons and hip-hop samurais in the form of Mugen and Jin from Samurai Champloo. Do you think DJ and Riff deserve a piece of the pie? I do! But sometimes it’s better for the main characters to nibble on the pie crust before eating the whole fucking thing. Wouldn’t want them to get upset tummies.

 

***RANT OF THE DAY***

“There’s a market for everything, man! There’s a market for pet psychologists! There’s a market for twisted shit fetish videos! For nipple rings! For River Dancing! For chocolate-covered roaches! But you can’t find one for hardcore hip-hop?!”

-Immortal Technique-