An Emperor, Shakespeare, and Forrest Gump Walk Into a Bar…

I swear I get the best inspiration from Facebook comments.

A guy who worked under my charge in the Marine Corps was at it again yesterday. As a matter of fact, from here on out, I’ll contradictorily refer to him as – Buddy. I posted an article about supporting Black businesses and the fella had a meltdown. In real time. With each passing statement, Buddy made sure to put on public display his lack of knowledge and inability to comprehend the simplest of concepts as if ignorance coupled with being unread were a badge of honor. The tragedy of his crash and burn was Shakespearean in a theatrical sense, only because his slow demise was of his own doing. The nobility associated with characters such as Hamlet, Julius Caesar, or Macbeth would have to be omitted.

He might not appreciate being compared to Othello, either.

 

However…

I know of another noble comparison that’s right down his alley.

“Many years ago there lived an emperor who loved beautiful new clothes…,” so the story begins. Continue reading “An Emperor, Shakespeare, and Forrest Gump Walk Into a Bar…”

Don’t Kill the Messenger

I was told I have no idea.

A white teacher in Beaumont, Texas, was shown on video violently and repeatedly assaulting a young Black student and I was told I don’t understand. I was told, “it’s hard to keep your cool.” By a teacher, mind you.

Mary Hastings, a teacher at Ozen High School, was arrested after a video showed her slapping a student. (Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office)

I was told the kid “wasn’t even mad.” That he was smiling right after the uncontrollable, enraged, and violent teacher, Mary Hastings, physically attacked him – all the while being called “an idiot ass” and mocked afterward. Yeah. Why would he be mad, right? I would confidently argue that his reaction did not mean that he wasn’t even mad. More than likely, it meant that he was embarrassed and in order to mask his true emotions, he smiled. Those type of responses happen, tu sabes?

I was told that she must have been provoked to assault her student with the fiery aggression that she wantonly displayed. Provoked? Hey, don’t kill the messenger. Provoked was the excuse they told me. Continue reading “Don’t Kill the Messenger”