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Certified.

I couldn't think of a name for this posting, a quandary most likely excacerbated by the fact that it is almost 4:30 AM (and I don't even have anything due tomorrow). But anyways, if anyone is looking for a good rap/R&B album to buy, you pretty much can't beat David Banner's Certified. Aside from the astonishingly stupid "Play", the album is an exceptionally grimey example of neo-"dirty south." Bright spots include the introductory "Lost Souls", the rollicking "On Everything" and the anthem-esque "My Life."

But moving on to more serious subject matter:

As of this exact moment, if I were to pass on (this is a nice way of saying "to die") in the next few days, I would like this blog to act as my last living will and testament to express the manner in which I would like, or more importantly NOT like to be held in memoriam by my friends and family.

Ways I would NOT like to be remembered:
- As a blurb in your AIM, MySpace or facebook profile.
- With a "In Loving Memory" bumper sticker
- By playing a christian rock song at my funeral proceedings, or any of the following songs:
- No Tears In Heaven- Eric Clapton
- I'll Be Missing You (maybe the Puffy version, BUT ONLY AS A JOKE)
- I Will Remember You - Sarah McLachlan
- Anything by Enya, Celine Dion...etc...

I am truly unable to comprehend the puerility of the person who remembers an entire human life through an electronic medium as banal, dispassionate and superficial as any of those listed above. I truly mean this, I shudder at the concept of having my entire existence, every thought, emotion and action I have ever experienced summed up with the lyrics of a Guns N Roses song or a hackneyed "we will miss you" posted in someone's profile. Don't remember me with a quote right under the part of your profile that says you are looking for "anything I can get", doing so is an insult beyond measure. Don't even put the date, seriously. (the notable exception being on MY OWN wall or profile, with that I say have at it, and make sure you poke fun at me too.).

The same can be said for bumper stickers. If I died tomorrow, with all the peaceful and fond memories I have collected, with all the shameful lapses in character and judgement I have committed, all the things I have experienced that have brought me interminable joy, to me would seem inscrutably silly to have this myriad of human experience summed up by computer-cut piece of vinyl. The thought of having the entire catalogue of sensory information and accrued knowledge that is my life summed up by my name appearing next to a picture of a baseball sitting on the back of a GMC Yukon or a (god-forbid) Toyota Camry makes me want to puke. Is the price of closure for my friends too high a price to have my memory paid a fitting tribute?

You want to remember D.H. Bathon? Don't be sad or despondent, go do something he never got to do. Go to Mongolia and drink yaks milk. Bring a copy of Calvin and Hobbes "Yukon Ho!" to the Northwest corner of British Columbia and read it cover to cover, then spend a week bear hunting (with your HANDS!!!). How about one day just quitting your job and leaving everything behind except a change of clothes and $100 bucks and going to live somewhere, trying to make it with nothing but yourself. Or even run for public office, even if its County Water Commissioner. DO SOMETHING ELSE BESIDES BE SAD, but don't you dare sum me up with a bumper sticker because you want to ostensibly remember my death without ever having to take the emotional time and energy to actually do so in a real and corporeal way. Have a modicum of respect for my legacy and try to live a little bit of the life I may have never gotten the chance to.

I'm sorry if I'm ranting, I really am. I've probably hurt some feelings with this post, but if I seem judgemental, then good. I have every right to set standard by which my loved ones will carry on my memory. I don't want them to think of computers, cars, jobs, houses, promotions, degrees, success or other things that lack any sort of ethereal substance (I know that "ethereal substance" doesn't make sense...its 4:30 for cripes sake), I want them to think of pebbles smoothed by rivers, of cooking fires deep in the woods, the smell of wine and cigarettes mixing withs murmurs of deep conversation at a sidewalk cafe, the rustlings of pages in a perspective-altering book, being warmed by ocean breezes and the strums of a guitar as you lay on a beach, the crushing yet refreshing silence of fresh snowfall, the perfectly symmetrical head on a well-poured Boddingtons, and butterfly kisses, puppy dog tails and pixie dust (ok those last few were my attempt to salvage what remains my typically tough countenance).

I know that last sentence may seem about as hackneyed as anything, but I don't care, its what I feel, even if I am coming off a bit emo-ish right now (sorry...). Nothing inspired me to right this, just a lot of usually jumbled thoughts came together in moment of lucidity tonight, and I felt the need to write (well...technically type them) them down. I truly hope everyone has a good day and that reading this post has not made it worse.

You have to be honest, you didn't expect this post to follow a blurb on David Banner, did you? HA! 'Dats why I keeps 'em coming.

Night.
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