Giraffe Superheroes

            We haven't done much this week,  as we have had many set backs. These set backs include, the computer not working, the computer not working, and last, the computer not working. Another notable set back is my lack of photo shop skills. The hodgepodge of all this is an incomplete poster. We have not been able to do much to the poster, as we have not been able to download any fonts, or pictures. What's a poster without fonts or pictures? Well, if you really want to know, it's just absolutely nothing. So all week, we've been working towards nothing. Never fear, for at the end of the week, Jack came in much like a superhero with giraffe artistic powers to help us with the artistic direction of our poster. The end result is much how I pictured, save for the army font evident in the quotes sphere. Somehow, with the end results, it appeared that our set backs were not for nothing, but the way for a final, and simple, execution.
             Although we have done nothing, I do consider it necessary to contribute I have been doing some things. I have become well acquainted with the inner workings of MAC computers. Did you know, Finder lets you find anything except that which you're looking for? Although proven obstinate for the goals of this project, most of my education is helpful for the future of my poster making, video making opportunities.

Evaluation v. Execution

This week I’ve been much more of a useful engine than projected. Given I have actually been in class this week, I’ve been able to do much more. I wanted to assume editing responsibilities; however, it appears as if Conor is chief of most everything, so I have resigned myself to poster maker along with Annaleigh. We are doing much of what we did last week, selecting appropriate fonts, discovering the frustrations of photoshop, evaluating possible photos. We have decided on a martial arts type poster in which there will be three windows, each painted over through internet filter features which allow for oil paintings through photos. These photos will be provided through screenshots of the film. I am most looking forward to the finished look, as it appears most of this week was evaluating over execution.

Most notably, I went on an adventure with Conor and Jack to the Northwestern Branch to film scenes our subject jumping off a cliff. I am most impressed at how seriously everyone in my group takes the project. I don’t think Mr. Mayo thinks we take the project as seriously as our obligations for journalism or chemistry, but had he been on the trip he would’ve been proven incredibly wrong. I do wish I had the proper attire for such a hike on such a beautiful summit. I wore these stupid flats, which in no way helped me climb on the slimy, muddy, mossy rocks, and I didn’t have my glasses. Through the green blur, I could see however, that our filming location was most beautiful. All that was very nice, but it didn’t have much to do with filming. This is because we spent most of our time much like the poster. Evaluation over execution. Eventually, we found our location after having crossed over rocks and a fallen tree trunk to the other side of the trail. I didn’t get to film, as I hadn’t worn the proper attire, and Conor was the director, so he called all the shots. So much for my being assertive. I will be though, because I came up with some pretty great ones as I observed, and I will, next time we film. Then it will be execution and that will be all.

 Corner
*This is a Story I wrote Hope you Enjoy*

       Nikolai had grown to become particularly excited to move in any direction, for it was at that time that he would see his friend. Nikolai did not move often, he did not have many friends, but when he convinced himself that there would be an greater-outer- knowing of some kind that would make give his life any value, he got up, and he would move. An old lady appeared at Nikolai’s door one day, and she rang the door bell about ten times before he had the courage to get up, and as he figured, speak. The lady’s diligence echoed throughout Nikolai’s home in “Deck the halls”, a tune Nikolai’s parents had installed a year and a half ago in a Christmas impulse. The great Parent’s Christmas impulse had not ended even at this moment, and Nikolai took the agonizing door bell as yet another outward force of some all knowing evil that was set to ruin a life of his that had already been ruined. At last, at the tenth ring of the door bell, Nikolai felt pushed to get up and make it shut up by doing what he did not want to. Nikolai got up from his bed and he ran in a straight line, his hands pressed over his ears. He had almost run into the wall in front of him, but he suddenly had to make a turn to run down the steps. Nikolai turned quickly, sloppily, and out of the corner of his eyes, he could see an image, of a person, of whom he was sure was real. Nikolai became paranoid, and as he ran down the great steps of his empty lonely home, he turned again, shifting his body, feeling somewhat of a push. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that figure again, this time staring dashingly and twisting its smile at him. Nikolai yelled, although he wasn’t sure why, as he opened the door for the old lady, who was staring at him, but with a blank smile on her face. “Hello”, she said, ignoring the deafening ring of the last door bell and Nikolai’s rudeness. “Young man, would you like to join the Newsboys club? You get a bicycle and you get to learn how to throw newspapers onto strangers lawns. You boys must love that. Would you care to join”? Nikolai didn’t really care about anything at this point, he knew that there were outward forces, in door bells, in strange people that appeared when he turned, and in the twists and turns of his life. Nikolai stared at the woman “Sure”.

    And so it began that Nikolai would see his friend and he could no longer define reality. Nikolai would ride his bike everyday, and as he would ride to the corner of House and Maple, he would accelerate his bicycle consistently until he would go at an especially fast speed. Nikolai would cruise with this speed, and once he had reached his set corner, he would jerk his bicycle so his body would sway to the left of the corner’s sharp right, and see his friend. The friend would never appear on the corner’s side of Nikolai’s turns, rather, Nikolai would curve into them, at which point the friend would say “Hi”. Nikolai would say “hi” back to his friend, but his friend would be gone within the flash of the turn. Nikolai would shrug, and he would continue until he reached the corners of Pine and Square, whereby he would turn to see his friend again, and ask “How are you”, and his friend would say “Good, you”? Nikolai would huff under his breath, “I’m fine, hey-”, but his friend would be gone, as he had been before. Nikolai would marvel at his friend, but he would wonder why everyone else would simply continue with their lives as if there wasn’t any new person in the neighborhood whenever his friend would appear. He wondered why no one called his friend’s name in order for his friend to disappear. He wondered who his friend was. The second month into Nikolai’s corner adventures and his halted conversations with his curious friend, he decided that he would have to know his friend’s name. The question had occurred to him before, but at first sight of his friend, he had forgotten it, as if his friend had pushed him to. Nikolai thought through his motives, but not enough to contemplate the those of his friend. Nikolai’s revelation did not occur to him on his shift, and so in the Summer’s evening, he decided to mount on his bike to turn a corner, and see his friend. Nikolai sped toward House and Maple, and he vowed to himself he would not look at his friends face just in case. Nikolai held his stomach in, and he turned the corner, preparing to open his mouth. Nikolai forgot his vow, and as he turned the corner, he asked, “What is your name?” as fast as he thought he was able; yet Nikolai did not see his friend, and a kid on the inside of the corner asked him “WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?”, as loudly as he thought he was able. Nikolai nodded his head left and right, and he sped to the next corner. Nikolai deviated his body around the corner, expecting his friend to emerge outwardly from the butterflies in his stomach, or from the corner, or from  his speed, or to simply appear. And so Nikolai asked again, “What is your name?” as quickly and as loudly as he could. The same kid that sat at the previous corner, appeared at Pine and Square, on the inside of Nikolai’s turn. “WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?” the kid yelled redundantly. Nikolai ignored the kid, he was sure it was a figment of his imagination, and he sought to talk to something real. Nikolai sped past his abilities to the next corner, and sped ridiculously as he curved it. Nikolai yelled as loud as he could, “WHAT IS YOUR NAME, FRIEND”? Nikolai saw his friend,but before his friend could answer, he let his hand loose so he could feel his friends hands, as he felt he was about to fall. Nikolai felt nothing. Nikolai felt the crisp of the air, and he felt the cold shadow of nothing, and he could not see anything. Nikolai did not feel his friend, and when he opened his eyes he could feel something real. Nikolai had fallen onto the kid who had appeared at the inside of each corner, and somehow this kid had successfully pulled Nikolai onto himself. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT KID!?”, Nikolai yelled. “I SAW YOU WERE TALKING TO NO-ONE. NOTHING. I WAS CURIOUS SO I FOLLOWED YOU I GUESS. WHO WERE YOU TALKING TO THOUGH? OH AND YOU FELL. ON TOP OF ME! I’M REAL YOU KNOW! WHAT DID I DO?” the kid screamed into Nikolai’s face, forcing Nikolai to come to a truth. Nikolai realized that his corner friend had not been real at all, and that neither was the outside force that was coming for his life, which meant that the doorbell was simply a spur of his parent’s life, and he was left friendless because of what only he had done and thought. He was his outward force, except the force only came from the inside, and nothing else,and this kid had quite literally become one as well. Nikolai got up from the ground. He brushed himself off. “Say Kid, what’s your name”? Nikolai waited, as this friend might be as existent as the other one. The kid answered his name, and Nikolai heard the kid’s mother’s voice calling him in for dinner. “See you”, the kid said, and he ran away.  

Aidan 4 You: I can't stop writing in Nathan Fielder's Voice

  If this were an Apples to Apples Card, this is this description:
 If you know what this is about, congradulations, because I'm not sure

              It was February, and my days were warm with George Michael's synthy voice and the psychedelic undertones of Das Racist. I know George Michael and Das Racist are largely regarded as lame commodities, and I know I've told this story many a time; but I haven't told the essence of it. It came as a legend, I'm not sure how I got to it. I remember the first time I saw them, on my Gramma's television. February that year was very polar, and very unsure, and very important to my life. I remember lying on my grandmother's bed for days straight as its unsure and unforgiving behavior kept me locked inside due to random snow storms. Those days, I would watch MTV Hits because it made me feel cool. I only cared about pop music and Das Racist (and George Michael) really, but I knew MTV was too uncool to play George Michael, and I knew it was too unhip to play my beloveds. So I watched music videos all day to uncover the treasures of new pop artists.
              I had a list of three songs I had to listen to, like a fix, they were addicting; given my extreme low intelligence with computers and cellular phones, not to mention the copious benefits of iPods, I waited each day until these songs would present themselves. This meant I often spent three hours in anticipation for these songs, and then another three hours for the next, and maybe three and a half hours for the one after.  That's a whole nine hours worth of senseless waiting, nine hours out of a twenty four hour day. And let's talk the time I sleep (on a day where I'm locked in the house, I'll sleep maybe twelve). So that's nine hours out of a twelve hour day! The worst was when I would grow bored with the cool of MTV Hits, and readily change to another channel, consequently missing my lovely songs.
               I should mention these songs. The songs I have to mention are, "Stare into the Sun," by Graffiti6, "Lolita" by lovely Mexican pop artist Belinda, and "Dignity" by New Politics. The last song I didn't actually like that much, but hey, when engulfed in a sea of MTV approved pop music, it was refreshing. I am most thankful to "Lolita," as it sparked my obsession with the Spanish language, and for the following years until I reached the crisis inducing class that is that of Sra. Cuadrado, I studied the language diligently on my own time. To be honest that was really Juanes's credit, but let's say Belinda ignited my passion, and Juanes put a little gasoline in the fire to set it ablaze. Anyway, I was most in love with Stare into the Sun. It's a lovely tune that alludes to old standards on record players from the sixties, it's lead, Jamie, is also quite hot. I loved that video so much, I became a hooligan when I filmed it illegally for safe keeping on my cellular phone. Mostly I loved the colors and Jamie. But I also loved the song.
           That was a joke because mostly I loved the song. Anyway, this was part of a segment on MTV Hits (the music video channel, might I mention) called "Hits." What followed I thought I'd like a lot, because I thought that would be the one on which MTV would feature the video for Rainbow in the Dark or Ek Shaneesh. It was a playlist called "Indie music." Actually, the first video was of this 70's VHS footage with this guy with lovely eyes, and unwashed hair that kind of sprouted from his head like little dead cell beansprouts. He had this gaze to one part of the camera like his voice, unsettling, unnerving, but a lock. I hated his music. I thought I'd heard it before, with my friend who really liked Rock music. I hated Rock music, it reminded me of cool people. That was weird because I was watching MTV Hits to feel cool. In any case, I checked the name in the lower right corner, "Last Nite. The Strokes" it read. They seemed too familiar, I searched my memories to find a connection. It was kind of creepy, futuristic. This was when I would loose faith in MTV Hits and change the channel until the hour of "Indie Music" passed.
           And that's when it began. The legend, really, begins with Take it or Leave it. That song reminds me of yellow slides and Wheaton Regional Park. It reminds me of feeling cool and walking down the street kicking cans, and then feeling bad about the environment and throwing them in the nearest recycling bin. Of course then I'd say "But cool people care about the environment." And walk away kicking stones. I think it reminds me of all that because it reminds me of my rock friend.
               I'm not sure how I ever heard that song, it must've been a faraway link, one from "Don't Shoot Me Santa" by the Killers, or maybe "Rooftop" by Das Racist. Maybe even, "Everything She Wants" by George Michael. Or "Marco Polo" by Bow Wow featuring Souja Boy (you see, when I was just getting into music, I had a very eclectic taste. I still do. It's kind of unhelpful though, because I can't tell the difference between bad and good music. Did you know Jamiroquai is cheesy? I think he's lovely.) Anyway, it made me feel closer to her, and it also made me feel closer to myself.
            I'm going to be real. What music is, is friendship. Just the way you might say, "Oh, I really like this friend. I thought I couldn't relate to anyone. This is the person out of these seven billion people I was meant to meet all along," really good music, your first obsession is, "Oh, I really like this song. I can't believe I finally found this, and it's been here all along. Wow, I feel so refreshed. For all these years, I've waited and I finally found it." I was thirteen, and I had found The Strokes.
             After Take It or Leave It, I found Someday. I didn't find the video, but I remember how nostalgic it sounded, like I'd heard it before. It sounded like relaxing. Before all this, in the seventh and sixth grades, down to fourth and fifth, I was really into depressing music. I had this whole mentality (whenever I think of it, it makes my mind feel like a grid, like locks and cables pressing in ignorance), that there was my perfect music. I found some of it in The Fray, when I was eight, and obsessed with Cable Car. That's kind of a funny story, because my aunt's boyfriend just happened to have the CD "The Fray" and I listened to it on my CD player every night when I lay in bed; however, I did not fully understand the concept of an album.
          For example, an album is listening, it does not include music videos, and that kind of breaks an eight year old of the New Age's heart because that means you have to shut up and listen. Also, albums are not composed of only singles. I knew this, but I was precocious and about that song and I did not think very well, I guess. I knew that because my mother had a tape with only one song on it; it said it was the soundtrack for Space Jam, and all it had was Kissed by a Rose by Seal on it. Kissed by a Rose by Seal. Even when I was four, when I first saw that, I shook my head and said to myself what a waste of money. So, you see I knew this, but the thing was, which leads us into our third point: Albums do not only have singles, but the songs on the album aren't all like the singles. The Fray is weird. Their lyrics made no sense. Their tunes would fade off. They would sound like death a lot. I would spend nights with a flashlight and the book underneath my covers, trying to decipher the philosophy I knew as an eight year old, and apply them to make sense with their lyrics. Anyway, once I understood The Fray (it took four years) I knew something was missing.
             Obviously, what was missing was Coldplay, because if you want to listen to deep music that's extremely depressing and still be cool, that's the music for you. Or me. We're talking about me.
In the seventh grade, just around my birthday, Coldplay came out with their album Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends. It was a wonderful album, and I hated it the first time I listened to it because I ignored the laws afore mentioned. All of the songs were weird and too deep, they had weird titles like "42" and "Yes." They were about death. They sounded nothing like the greatest song in the world, "Viva la Vida." After a while, I took out my trusty CD player, and my iPod Nano, because by this time technology was popular, and listened to that album about forty times. I disected the lyrics, the songs, I sang them in the shower. I declared Coldplay knew the pain of my middle school existence. Even so, I knew that they were kind of lame. A real rock group with deep depressing feelings wouldn't be winning Grammy's and sing about the stupid things like color yellow. Come on, yellow is like the happiest color out there. My music was somewhere out there, too. I knew.
             So there I was, a year later, on my computer listening to "Someday." "Someday" is a memory of itself. It doesn't remind you of "good old days" it reminds you of itself, it makes you bang your head against a wall because you think you've heard it before. And that's a wonderful feeling. The next song I listened to was Hard to Explain. "That was a lovely song," I said as I forgot it once I clicked from its window.  I'd like to take this time to talk about Julian Casablancas's voice. Julian Casablancas has a wonderful, magical voice, like trees that never stop growing in a forest of bear transforming sprites. It's gruff and sweet, and he can sing in two octaves at the same time. It's layered with that coat you hear on old records playing back. But the strangest, and best part is, it sounds exactly the same live. It's one of those voices critics deem "powerful." It's very. It's very hard to explain. Do you get it? Because there's the Strokes song I wrote about quite briefly called "Hard to Explain."
I should stop telling jokes.
I'm not very good at doing that. 
             And I left it like that until it was April and also Spring Break. I don't know what sparked all this, but it began a little before, when my ears were blessed with "My music" with a little ditty called "This Life." Essentially, what "This Life" is is The Strokes's poke at a little of Sting and Santana music, which reminds me a lot of my childhood, and cool nights luminated with flourescent red lights, like abandonned bars on Streets named things like "S." S for Strokes, or Sting, or Santana. "This Life" features two rainbow guitars, racing through the mind like a gypsy guitar player strumming between two very old walls in Paris, or the genius of Albert Hammond Jr. and Nick Valensi. This was my music because it was angst and guitars, and the ruff forest sprite quality of Julian Casablancas's voice. And that's all I needed. The solo, might I add, sounds like a crying 40 year old man. But an attractive forty year old man, like George Clooney (when he was 40, like in O Brother Where Art Thou). And crying in a good way, for example if the forty year old man just won five hundred dollars in a church lottery, or if he had a baby.
             The next thing I listened to was Between Love and Hate. Extensively, this was the first ever time I saw Julian Casablancas in action without throwing up. If you recall, the last time I listened to Julian Casablancas whilst also watching his face was with "Last Nite" in February, when he made me want to throw up. This time, he looked a lot different. Archives from my Gmail account have me telling my best friend Naomi, "the lead singer is strangely hot." This time, Julian had that same Bean sprout hair, except it was dyed black, and he had these stupid white shoes. He also had this Ghost Busters wife beater. I didn't care about the rest. Don't you know, the lead singer is always the most important person of a band.
             I was joking. I was also in love with the creepy looking kid who looked like he got terrorized a lot in high school. He reminded me of my crush. I don't want to get into eighth grade crushes, I mean, talk about uncomfortable! My crush was really attractive though, and really nice. Just, they had the same essence I guess, he and the creepy kid. I would later learn this creepy kid was Sex God Nick Valensi, who's not a Sex God to me, but hey, he seems like a nice guy. Anyway, The Strokes proved to be an aesthetically attractive band, and Between Love and Hate wasn't that bad of a song too. It had these kind of octave lyrics, like double Julian. The best thing about Julian performing was that he'd always make these kind of nonsensical movements and bend his body over and squint his eyes. This was something I later learned as "being drunk." At the time, I thought he was just being cool. Now, since I know being drunk is wrong, I also know being drunk is not cool. Unless you're Julian Casablancas.
            So what followed was my Spring Break's worth of falling in love with The Strokes. The first day I listened to their entire discography and hated it with all my heart and soul, if I had one. I'm just kidding. I have a soul.
I'm done making jokes, this isn't working out.

Part 2 in my "The Strokes" adventure coming soon. Read later to figure out the interesting things in my life that happened next.

I wrote this entire thing in the voice of Nathan Fielder of the acclaimed show, Nathan For You. I pick up on voices easily, and therefore just as easily get into talking like people. Call it a gift, to me it's annoying because it makes me feel crazy. But this was fun. Cool. Cool cool cool.

KEY$ NADIA IS THE NEW KOOL G R@PPER

I am a black nerd. I don't think it's so important, but I don't think I'm a nerd and I happen to be black, or I'm black and I happen to be a nerd either. I don't happen to be anything, I am what I am. It's not important because it shouldn't be. I shouldn't have to prove my labels, as if such a thing weren't of any existence or was exotic. People are nerds, naturally, black people are people too. Lately, however, the Black Nerds of America have been owning their black nerdship, and creating a culture in their blackness (which they will assure is not decremented by their nerdiness, instead exhaulted to a more existential level), and the nerdiness they have come to embrace. And then they realize, from that, that nerds are really very stylish, and very in, and therefore the most attractive pieces of candy in the salt water taffy store on the boardwalk. It started with Issa Rae.
Or Donald Glover. Donald Glover, fellow Black Nerd (demoted to a lower standard for participating on Girls as their only Person of Color (that show really needs diversity it's kind of sad!) by People who Care and such) identifies Nerdship as that which involves obsession. Sure, he was joking as he said Kanye West is a Black Nerd, and not Urkel, for his infatuation with bears far succeeds Urkel simple dorkiness, but it's true. Nerds are those with obsessions. And mine is the Black Nerd Culture, and Mindless Behavior. And lots of music. And Issa Rae.

Issa Rae is my idol of all time. In high school, she wrote an entire essay in "Ebonics" as she withered through the loneliness of being on of the only black kids in her private school. She got an A for stylistic devices. She went to Stanford for African American Studies. She raps to get her emotions in tact. In college, she made a series about black students in prestigious colleges; and one day she decided to post a facebook status. "I'm Awkward, and I'm Black," it read. A friend commented, "Those are the two worst things to be;" thus Issa Rae, like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly, became into a more perfect person than she had already proved to have been.
A friend told me the other day as she lamented her life, "I am a caterpillar wanting to fly. And that is just retarded Aidan." I do not promote the use of the word "retarded" in such a context, but I digress, such is the reason I LOVE Issa Rae. She's awkward, and black, and although in the eyes of BET and the rest of daytime media for ratchet people and midwest housewives, that's a death combination, she's a flying caterpillar. Issa Rae is the pioneer of the Black Nerd Movement, and she is the creator of Awkward Black Girl.
Its title may seem off putting, I know, but what it comes down to is humor and some jokes that will make you pee on yourself, and then pause to find the philosophical and ratchet undertones. It stars a girl with an awkward life named J, her best friend Ceci, White Jay, and the most hilarious disgusting workplace.


As J goes through the painful and raw moments of her life, she realizes the beauty of love and best friendship,  angry rapping, and daydreams. This is Issa Rae's genius. J's not awkward, she's a person, and she's unsure and insecure, and what she is is the awkwardness we have within ourselves as we learn to deal with our own nature. We are all inherently awkward, and we've all got something to share. But Issa Rae found a way to do that.
Even as J frowns in interviews and bites her lips as she prologues distressed silences, Issa Rae is loud and personable, and smart but unafraid to embrace any ignorance she has in order to learn. Issa Rae isn't even embarrassed to embrace ignorance; however, everyone is not a Stanford Graduate, and therefore, unable to do so as classy and prophetic as she does.
    
As such, Issa Rae is able to create such beauty as "Ratchetpiece Theatre" which explores the hilarious, delirious, and often disturbing culture of the ratchet of our country.
Ratchet, according to Issa Rae, is, "If ghetto and a hot [expletive] mess had a baby, and that baby had no father, and became a stripper, then made a sex tape with an athlete, and became a reality star."
Such an intelligent mind committed to understanding the self made-incompetent gives me hope about my world. Most of all, she inspires me that being black and nerdy and awkward doesn't make you a square in the sense that you are lame, because there's nothing cooler than a nerdy gangster, and that's what Issa Rae is.
So I've vowed to myself to become a rapper. I'm going to try to be a rapper for thirty days, and if it doesn't work, I'll try not to be Issa Rae, and just be myself; however, I'll try to make videos like Awkward Black Girl too, because that's something I'd love to do. My rapper name, everyone, is KEY$ NADIA. My title is the New Kool G Rapper, after the Das Racist lyric making a homage to the rapper Kool G.
My first mixtape will be 'Boys and the Universe: The Flying Caterpillar'. Here is a snippet from my single "Walking Cannibal Dagger"
DOLLAR SIGN/DOLLAR SIGN/DOLLAR SIGN/DOLLAR SIGN/ KEY DOLLAR SIGN NADIA/ COMIN' ACHA WITH A SONG (pause) YA/ BETTA KEEP YO HEAD COV(pause)AD/COS I'M A WALKING CANNIBAL DAGGA/COMIN' FO ALL THE SMARTS IN YA BRAIN YEAH MEDUSA/ THAT'S THAT GREEK [EXPLETIVE] FINNA DRIVE YOU INSANE/COS I'M A GOD/ OF RAP DUH/ I'M A [EXPLETIVE] PROD/IGY COS WE GETTIN JIGGY WIT IT/ MY WORDS DANCE LIKE I WAS ON POINT IN A MINUETTE/ WE GON CONTINUE THIS LATER/ MY WORDS SO FAST (pause) YOU NEED A CALCULATOR.
Thank you.
Other than my fabulous projected money-pouring-into-my-house-like-a-broken-waterpark-was-next-door-to-my-house-you know, cos the water would just splurge in-if money were water-career, Issa Rae has taught me what writing is, and what being yourself really can be.
Perhaps the greatest thing on Issa Rae's channel besides Ratchetpiece and the first season of ABG is Issa Rae presents the Fly Guys Present "The 'F' Word." Such is a show documenting three fools as they journey three years to record, "THE ONE!" or the single that will win them all the money, fans, and women they desire. Each episode is appropriately named after the song they create, and as they do so, the song takes a story of its own. Each adventure is quite silly, as they meet a knock-off Bruno Mars, hit on each others moms, dance compete, Sumo compete, and discuss important matters with their online manager who lives in Nebraska. Appropriately, each star is quite silly as well. There's DJB, who's adorable and sensitive, Tone, a player who's a bit of a jerk, and Enimal, the leader.

I wish they did not refer to women as the B-word so often, perhaps that is why they have no game. Even so, I have not laughed this hard due to a show in a long time. Such leads me to my absolute favorite, the most adorable show of the Black Nerds, Brothers With No Game.
There is nothing cuter than Brothers With No Game, as it follows four men in London as their magic tricks of love fail on the women of their dreams. There's Theo, the guy you're supposed to root for, the guy who's really sensitive and sweet, and just wants to treat a woman right, but for the same reason cannot get one. There's Marcus, the impossibly clueless ladies man, who's also very physically attractive. There's Dorian, who analyses everything and is absolutely dumbstruck as he debates methods to address his love to his crush of ten years. And there's Junior, who's in love and heart broken as the love of his life Vanessa leaves him to work in New York City. Each has no game for obvious reasons, but their almost ironic chivalrous character, and loyal friendship always gets the viewer to believe they'd have game with her or him. It's not a hillarious show, it just keeps it real.
Keeping it real as in, it feels like people's lives, and the funny things are those which happen everyday as you have good times with your friends. Brothers with no game, although about sad people, is a good day with your friends, and that's always refreshing. Nonetheless, it's very funny, especially Marcus's episode as he asks out Niya, and later goes speed dating with freaks and his friends. Brothers With No Game is a lot of what the media isn't, and I'm not sure is Britain isn't much the same as that which we have here, but if this show were in the United States, I think it would come as a bit of a shocker that these young Black men weren't being portrayed as players and idiots, rather sort of lame guys who just want to watch a good ball game.

"I'm on a higher level of sexy right now, and I want you to join me."

That's the Black Nerd Mantra. We're too sexy for one to understand, but our quirks exist in our awkward sentence structure, our politeness, our desire for you to understand, but for us to still be cool. That's all I want to be, but sometimes I think that's a lot harder than just being me.

Much Love to Issa Rae and congradulations on the show with First Black Nerd Shonda Rhimes!

I am Sad to Finally Have Finished My Documentary (Essay)

           *******No Links because this is an essay********       

                  My favorite part of the a story is the pivot into the mistake, the This American Life pause of realization of morals and hindsight. The assessment of the story's purpose, of life moments, and of life. That's why I love documentaries, they're those pivots into mistakes, and the assessment isn't only in the climax. The assessment is the movie. I didn't think my conductor's life was a mistake, but the most interesting people are those with the most insight, and therefore the most strife, frustration, and raw human condition. I wanted to capture one of those This American Life pauses as I depicted his life, for when there would be the climax of the documentary, he would deliver so much insight and humanity there wouldn't just be a This American Life pause, there would be a silence to assess one's own life. I wanted to make a documentary of my conductor to inspire, to learn, and to tell a story.

                    Instead I made one about commercialization holidays. I was just excited to make a documentary without pain. When I was in the eighth grade, I got a Film maker to sign, "To Aidan, future Documentarian," on the poster of the movie he made about my Great Great Grandfather and the crew on his Black Coast Guard of Manteo. Also in the eighth grade, for Final Conference, my group made a film about Enlightenment and the United States' wrongdoings in it's philosophies. I owe much of my confidence to knowledge to its research; however, I hated it. It was dry and the child of a controlling dictating group leader, like the reject clips from 60 Minutes or PBS. Before that, I made a short documentary as my group interviewed the director of Saturday Night Live; I wasn't the most gifted at Final Cut, at most I am proficient. Holidays was a break, I must have thought. It was simpler than regurgitating pretentious eighth grade ambitions, or having to make a comprehensive profile of a New Yorker with five minutes of B-Roll. And as much as I love the product, I do wish I could have convinced my group members to try Vales, because there isn't much real in commercialization of anything. Real is what mistakes are, what insight and assessments are.

                    There's insight in my documentary, but not necessarily anything regarding the Human Condition. I would've liked it much more if we could have done a story on the stories of commercialization, as that way we could have related the documentary more to ourselves and the readers. Through that, we could have concluded the extent of commercialization not through gross national products, but ourselves. Perhaps that way, I could have contributed much more to the filming of our product, as I told myself I would try to gather B-Roll, and I never did. Instead, I spent class getting music, or finding some B-Roll, or researching inemptly, or doing my English homework. I helped a bit with the script, but I feel as if Stephanie and Juliette did all the work, as I didn't take the project seriously enough. As I have seen I have such ideas to better the documentary, I wish I could have been more assertive in the project.

                     Given Stephanie was the only person who could really use Final Cut and treat it well to produce a decent video, we had to leave Stephanie to edit. She faced many computer difficulties, and freaked a little over B-Roll. Juliette faced computer difficulty as her computer locked her from her account; Alia faced little difficulty; I didn't face any save for the speakers, which wouldn't sound correctly. Once we finished the project, most everything went smoothly, and the film was beautiful. I tried searching the internet for the most outrageous videos, however, I didn't find much. On my next documentary I will be sure to pay attention to the editing value as I learned Stephanie created the documentary, essentially, through her skills, not our research nor our script writing. I must also be careful to plan for the final product, as I viewed my little contributions didn't amount to as much as I would've liked.

                         I found it most helpful and awe-inspiring to have the documentary filmmaker discuss with us a little of the process of which we were about to detail. I would get that feeling I conjure up in chemistry as I discover how to raise 16 grams of a substance one degree, and think if Documentarians actually had to write scripts such as the one I would edit in two days. Then I would remember the Harvard Professor who spoke with us, and remember the dream of the real-life filmmaker. I learned life is planning, and if I focus, I don't have to wait to become a professor or an established documentary filmmaker, for I have the tools already. This would be my impetus for work. Mr. Mayo did an excellent job getting the interviews for the documentary filmmakers, as well as choosing films to show to us during class. Such a part of the process was exciting and an excellent builder of enthusiasm. I would have rathered if Mr. Mayo hadn't been so pushy at times, because often times my group would interpret his feedback as hatred for our project, or a teacher's advantage of power to vicariously create his own project. I would have also rathered if Mr. Mayo were a little more organized, as some deadlines wouldn't be fair to the workload we were to complete. Most, I appreciated Mr. Mayo's sporadic and spastic check ins, for as annoying as they seemed, they kept me on task and committed to my work. 

                              My project turned beautifully, and our documentary is short and smart. It's a little insight into human behavior and conditions, and it's a sweet observation of an almost sickly process. I've learned, therefore, there's an element of the human condition in everything. Commercialization of Holidays is the eradication of any religious or commemorative substance within a value so as to promote the purchase of products which economically boost companies in said time of year. As such, it's the human nature of greed and religion, and the inverse function of the two. It reminds me much of my favorite internet show, StereoTypes, which observes a topic or two, and asks the New York City Public (and sometimes that of London or Washington D.C) of its thoughts on the matter. It's much more entertaining than words; however, my group could've attempted the same consensus. Often times, Ryan Hall, the host, begins with one topic, and produces some truly inspiring insights through natural conversation about totally separate aspect of humanity. We could've interviewed the Washington D.C population. As my group only interviewed Christina Jack, Samantha, and Sarah, I suppose we didn't need eccentrics. What we found was honest. In the words of Samantha, "We only celebrate holidays cos they're fun!"

                      

                    

It's Been Fun and I'm Tired

                    The second week of school I decided my agenda would be my life. It has been, and I have become the Great Zucchini regarding it. I turn in a lot of things late, famously to my friends, and I'm late to school a lot of days too. I'm not punctual, and I try to fix it, but my this fault I have, this thing which ruins my life so many times, is irrelevant because I have an agenda. Last week I realized I have a culture. I have a lyric for every day of the year. This began the first day of school, and every lyric is from a different song. It has to be. You could call me OCD, but that's a real mental issue so it would be of bad taste. I prefer dedicated. Artist.
               Also, I have to have a quote of the week, and it can be from anything. This is the only place in my agenda where I can use pen. My favorite quote of the week, courtesy of my uncle (quoting nuns at his friend's old school), "Should you. Ever get in car with a boy. You place a newspaper on his lap. So as to prevent pregnancy." Some weeks though, I don't really ever get a quote, but I make it work. Before the most important thing, I have to write down every single homework assignment I have, and every class, even if I have to write none. The bad thing about this is, I don't do them on time, but I'm working towards it.
               The most important thing is that I draw the Black Hole People. I love Hanging Rock Comics, cos I find her to be really cheesily against everything, and I find her comics to be sick, and really cheesy. Also, in her words, she has a killer taste of music. So one day, as I was in my Apathetic Teenager Phase, I was checking out her blog, and I came up with an idea of cheese. It was a footballer and a girl at desks, and the footballer says, "So like why not go find yourself?" and the girl says "You can't find something that's not lost." The cheese was that it was typical a high school moment, I guess, but also that that was some deep stuff. So, since there wasn't school that week, and I felt it summed up my life, I drew it. Black Holes so there aren't any racial or cultural connotations with faces or hair, just words and fashion and bodies and facial structures and poses.

thus began the Black Holes. It says Mastiff in the side because I got a Mastiff that weekend \m/

I was super in to Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure that week so I drew them saying my favorite quotes. 

Bigger guy: GET BENT would you? 

Little guy: That's impolite.

Fillman told me this was lovely. I thought she was a bit crazy because I drew this as I recognized I cursed A LOT, and I was impolite. This was when I realized I could reflect my fashion tastes in my comics, as well as poses and settings.

Girl: I am my own planet.

Guy: Open the door, will you?

This week, I was really into sailor jackets, as I call them, and striped shirts. Also simple skirts and knee socks. I was also in love with henly shirts so I made one for the guy. What's going on here is, I have a theory that people are like planets, and we all breath different air, so you can't really mind read or know fully what another's thinking because you'd be poisoned in the air of their mind. The guy says, 'open the door' cos sometimes, when people are their own planet, they become closed minded in how individualistic they are.

Lying down guy: I got too much

Sitting guy: I need a bit more

Both: Apathy

Basically, here I wanted to write about how apathetic I felt towards everything, and how I was so conflicted about it. This is also a tribute to the fashion taste Rizzle Kicks so rightfully boasts, as the sitting down guy is Harley, and the other guy is Jordan. I also realized I could experiment with facial shapes.

Girl: I just got so much to SAY

Guy: Write it down.

This week I had diversity workshop, and I had a lot to say while I was there. It was a bit like group therapy. So I wrote a lot of stuff down afterwards, what I didn't get to share. I was much influenced by this post on Rookie where in they commended the fifth grade girl on Arthur for her killer style and cool and awesome toughness. I was also influenced I guess by suits and bows,  and body language. And I wanted to experiment with body types. Another thing I loved was fingers, they're so small, but they say so much.

Girl: I'm alone.

Guy: Thanks

I love this one. I love it and love it. This was when I got everything I wanted to work with together. I had my poses, and the fingers, and the clothes I wanted, down to the facial shapes. Most of all I had my concept. I wanted to explain what being alone together was, and how it makes people feel. I haven't been in this specific situation, sure, but I felt it was relevant to enough. I drew a couple as it was Homecoming Weekend, and it made sense to me. This was how I knew I had to write Black Hole. 

Guy: I feel sick.

Girl: Good luck.

I was sick this week, and what I learned was, when you're sick, it's not so fun because you've got a lot to catch up on. And so that's why I wrote good luck.  I drew her in a mets shirt as there was this Rookie post about sports wear and how to make it look stylishly feminine. I drew a body con as everyone seemed to have one, even as I didn't see it stylish in most cases. The guy sports a nice almost trench jacket, much like the one I had, as this was the week I started wearing it. His pants (you can't see) are hatched so they look like that fabric that stitches up and down. 

Girl: Everything comes to an end.

Guy: Will it stop?

This was the last day of the quarter, and the quarter seemed as if it were torturing me as it reached its close. I just wanted school to stop. So I drew it. The Black Holes here are in a mirror maze, as I was thinking of the time I went to Ocean City this week, either that or I was influenced by the horror of Halloween's festivities. The girl wears a crop top which I imagined to be floral, and something under of course, and a sheer shirt. I couldn't draw that so well, though. The guy is my rendition of a poet man who came to Slam Poetry Club of which I had a two day's span of membership; that's why he has a swanky hat and an unkempt shirt and some nice faded jeans. In honesty I was thinking of Britney Spears as I drew the girl.

Witch: hope it's HORID.

Both: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Frankenstein: Specularly spooky.

This was my first holiday black hole! It was a blast to do, and I think I made it quite well. Frankenstein has a really nice costume, if I may say so, as it's sort of a spin of a Thriller suit, with tassels on the shoulders, but not really. I would wear the witches costume, as it has these fabric rips in it. The tree I drew in the background is pretty cool, too.

Girl: This will be BIG

Guy: Well...

This one reminds me of Spring, even as I drew it November 5th. I was on Polyvore these months, searching for a 1950s type outfit to suit my tastes. What I found were a lot of nice polos, and pleated skirts. I also really liked the trend of sheer shirts and zipper pants, so I drew those too. I figured I should add some means of transportation, and that's why there's a Vespa and a bike-trycicle like thing. The story here is, my mom told me about this guy on This American Life who experienced so many talents which were to blossom in the future, but he never appreciated it. Also the girl reminds me of Mulan, I think it's the pose though.

Obama: I won!

Romney: This isn't how to play the game.

To me, the election seemed like a giant game and Obama won it (rightfully). So in my mind, I made the Election computer game, where in there was chocolate cake and a big American flag on the background. Ok, the chocolate cake is because I was really digging Bill Cosby Himself and he talked about that a lot, and the computer stuff was alluding to Polyvore. Romney's jeans look like some swanky mom jeans though. And Barack Obama has a nice suit. I made Romney really ugly, I know, but I tried. I had a lot going on right here.

Guy: I'm just so TIRED of it!!

Girl: Go to BED.

Once my Mom was yelling at my brother and it was really late, and she said, "I'M JUST SO TIRED OF IT, LANDON!" I wanted to tell her, "go to bed," but I didn't because that would've been too smart. So I drew a comic of it. I was thinking of cathedrals this week, I cannot remember why, but I was, and so I drew a boy scout and a girl in one. The girl sports a nice form fitting dress, much like my skate one, and a belt, some pearls, and some boots with knee socks. The boy scout, influenced by a student whom I thought of as very rad for wearing a boy scout uniform as a fashion statement, looks kind of buff. This was when I was experimenting with drawing body types. I don't know why I chose to draw a buff guy. If you can see stuff in the windows, that's my homework.

Guy: Do you hear that MAGIC!

Radio: Happy Holidays! errr THANKSGIVING!!

Woman: No, I'd like to TASTE it.

What I meant here was, there was already Christmas music on the radio (the magic) and people were missing out on the magic tasty delicious wonders of thanksgiving and the food it harvests because they were already consumed in Christmas wonder. I drew a Christmas tree to show this too, and the turkey blocked as the guy sits in front of it. The woman sports a sort of tweed sweater thing, and the guy wears a sweater.

Girl: You've changed...

Guy: SURPRISE...

I don't know what was going on with me this week, but I guess I felt I'd changed some how. And to me that came as a surprise. This is one of my favorites. I love the body language here, as well as the fashion. I also love the use of depth, even though the chars are absolutely huge. And the concept of course, cos it's a surprise party so you sort of get that he's saying surprise for that as well, but he still hears her. The fashion story here is, Laura Woods has magnificent tights. And one pair has hearts woven into them, so I drew those. I was also really into vests and corduroy, so the guy wears that. The girl, as much as I love her dress, wears something I don't remember conceiving, and some really nice creepers. It's a nice party here.

Girl: I can't sleep.

Guy: But you can eat.

So this week I was really into Grey's Anatomy. Actually I just thought Jesse Williams was the most immaculate being on the planet, and super super into him, so I watched like two episodes for him. And in one, Lexi tells the other hot guy, I think his name was Mark? (R.I.P) "I can't eat... I can't sleep.." and you're supposed to interpret that as love, because that's what it always means. Also ***shhhh**** I think I had a crush this week, so. Well I'm not finishing that. I thought at the beginning of this week, wouldn't it be great to have a Black Hole at the Grocery Store? Coincidentally, I found myself at the grocery store many, many times, most notably on Friday when Laura Woods and Ruth and I had a party buying all the junk food in the world at the grocery store for a party of mine of two hours. Can I also talk about how much I love the clothes here. The girl has some pretty nice creepers with hearts on them, and bell bottoms, and a pajama shirt. And the guy has a parka and some really big pants. This is the party before the party.

Girl: I'm running away.

Guy: It'll just CATCH up to YOU

I saw the movie All I Want to Do and  instantaneously fell in love with their clothing. I also didn't want to do any of my homework ever, so I wanted to run away from my life. My mother told me, "It'll just catch up to you!" And I drew it. I love the girl's over coat thing, and the bars behind her. I think I did well with poses here, even if it looks a little awkward. I had a nice concept. Running away and bars. And high fashion. 

I drew my Christmas Wishlist.

Girl: What?

Guy: Nothing.

This was the week my mother blessed my house with the arrival of the Golden Couch. Another immaculate being in my life, the makeout couch was my home for three days as I dealt with a horrible seige of hormones which made my body, and my mind extremely depressed. I don't really know, perhaps it was because I read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close in these three days and the depression took over my life. Anyway, this week I was really inspired by Adidas, which I love, and drew, and I guess sports jackets that are sort of a hybrid between Varsity Jackets, and zipper pants. And I really loved sheer shirts and nice pants. The star here, though, is the couch.

Man: It's the Holidays!

Girl: And an actual New Year!

Christmas! I went Christmas shopping, and I realized how much Christmas takes over the world, and how much of it is so material. So I drew a store. The man sells to you through the holidays. I wanted to draw child objects in the windows to explain how much they're a dying breed, and how they become Christmas for children instead of Jesus or family. The woman says "actual new year" behind the falling 'Happy Christmas!' because I realized it wasn't such a big deal anymore. Also it's 'Happy Christmas!' because that was how I said 'Merry Christmas!' this year (probably because of Rizzle Kicks) and it's falling because Christmas ends once the day comes. The girl wears a sort of tight crop top like thing, and an elf skirt, some really nice star tights, and some Doc Martens. Really rad clothing idea of the man wearing a television, meant to show how Christmas is literally over commercialized, and the tree pants derive directly from Ryan Hall, my One True Idol for Everything.

Guy: Welcome back, Girl!

Girl: Help.

New Years! I really like the girl's pants here. They're just really comfortable looking and the fabric rips to me look nice. Also I like the body language I created here. The guy has a nice sense of style here, as he has some really nice pockets. This means to say the New Year is a welcome back of a sort, to school, but also to a new life. And you feel helpless because, if you're me, you don't want to go back to school, and you don't want to go on with the drama that entices your life. But you have to, because you do.

That's why for the next post of the same week I wrote:

Guy: I quit

Girl: Keep breathing.

I wanted the Black holes to be like street photographs, wherein the Black Holes don't know they're the subjects, they're just talking. But here they're aware of the fourth wall, as if they're posing, or talking to that person. I like that. I like how they don't have to be just led and graphite, after all, they're my two line diaries. This week I realized I was a bit of a designer as well. I made her some really rad overalls (I think), and a crop top because I really want one, and I had him wear a nice sports jacket and some sort of loose biker shots. I make it sound much worse than it is in real life. In real life, when people wear those they look really cool. Also he has a mesh top. The court makes me think of Spring. And I need that, still.

Guy: You're fine.

Girl: I'm fine.

So I sort of went overboard here with the pose-fashion concept, because although I do have a Pose of the Week for each week, this one is one in which the Black Holes are photographed, and they have to keep their cool. I never feel fine when I am fine, or when I tell myself that. In fact, I only tell myself 'I'm fine' when I'm having a nervous breakdown, and I was a lot of that. This week I realized beanies were quite fashionable, and so were these parachute pant-things, as well as camouflage and jean vests. So I wanted, this time, for my Holes to look current. With a bit of my strange style, I suppose they did.

Obama: This is not a benifit concert.

Beyonce: For you, maybe!

This was my Innaguration Post. I went with Dara Bean, Maeve, and Ariel, and it was a lot of fun; yet I was conflicted as to whether I was only attending for the beauty that was Beyonce. Apparently, everyone else did as well, and so I drew Beyonce telling Obama it was. Benifit concert because it was to rally support for Obama after all, and so what she meant was that perhaps he was the only one thinking it was not for her, and perhaps he was the only one benefiting.  The American flag is hooked up to a column to reference jumbo trons.

Versace for H&M is beautiful. I drew that here, as I also drew Angel Haze's excellent fashion taste. Angel Haze, in one photograph I saw of her wore boyfriend jeans, or maybe just big ones, and Doc Martens, and a loose shirt. So to mimic that I drew big pants, and Doc Martens, and Versace for H&M as I drew palm trees. I also drew a hoodie. The guy wears an interesting combination. I saw this tumblr post from blackfashion.tumblr.com of this guy wearing some kind of patterned tights and gym shorts and Jordans, and a sweatshirt. I transferred that here as I drew a boy with sea themed tights, and Jordan-like shoes (Shoe Game Shoes I guess) and gym shorts, and a sweatshirt with pyramids on it. Pyramids as I referenced the excellent Frank Ocean song. The Black Holes are at the playground, staring at me so I can do better. Springtime vibes. 

Expert Quote from My Dad That Week:

"After a certain while, you read obituaries to make sure you're not in them."

Girl: Life is Hard.

Guy: So is everything.

I really love Princeton from Mindless Behavior. He is the sassiest, most stylish, most repeatedly self proclaimed Punk Rock boy in a boyband there is. And he's also really ridiculously attractive, even if he looks like a girl when he wears a pony tail and a headband. Whatever, he's a really cute girl then. So I drew his style. What Prince wears is a lot of loose clothing, like parachute pants and Mexican sweaters. He also wears Doc Marten's because he's punk for lyf. I realized this week that, even though I drew fashion, I hadn't drawn high wasted jeans, and this was an extremely ubiquitous trend. So I thought of the most stylish girl I knew, which would be my cousin, and thought of the way she would wear them. I drew the jeans, which I like a lot, and a cabled sweater, and my favorite, the crop top. Life is hard, but not when Princeton tells me to get over myself.

Guy: What's up?

Girl: I'm sorry?

This one is one of my favorites. It's of two people on a bus, and awkward first encounters. This week I was contemplating what love meant, and how it began, just for philosophy's sake. I was also beginning to become aware of my awkwardness. So I drew a girl sunken in her own, and a guy just trying to start conversation. I like his jacket the best of anything, minus the advertisements. He wears one of those varsity jackets with the inverted collars, which are really, really popular. They have leather sleeves and a nice fabric body. The girl wears sports pants and a sort of cut long shirt, and a shirt over. I was experimenting with the bizarre of fashion, alluding to this girl. The ads are fun. One is "DR. DANNY CASTELLANO IS YOUR OBGYN 212-143-MINDY." 143 means I love you it's a reference from the Mindy Project and he should just get married to Mindy. I added a Gucci add because poor Gucci is just everywhere and not as high class. Also "323-319-6060" is from Mindless Behavior, because I love them. This was fun.

Guy: YOU GOT A DATE?

Girl: TWO FOURTEEN THIRTEEN.

So this week Sankofa was on the stage a lot, so that's what I drew, lights and set and all. I wanted to work on body language here, so I drew a couple in the imaginary play VALENTINE'S DAY. It fit as it was Valentine's Day, after all, and I drew a pun, as I imagined if any guy with a nice white suit asked me on a date, I'd probably say just that. The girl here though wears some nice chains, and a sort of mesh-ish top, more like one with a texture. In the background a valentine's reads 'Happy Valentine's Day! Love Aidan.'

Girl: You fly.

Guy: I don't have any wings, mind you.

Two weeks ago, my family and I went to spend the night at a hotel so the next day we could go skiing. Instead we went to a water-park as the skiing place closed on us. Anyway, Saturday night my cousins and I had a hotel party in which we acted like thugs and listened to a whole bunch of A$AP ROCKY and his crew. I became aware of the A$AP culture, and wanted to draw them badly, but instead I drew a guy who looks like a bandana-less cholo in some awkward jeans, like the men we met in the mountains in which we stayed. I got the girl down pact though, as she sports a classy jacket, fly tennis shoes, some loose pants, and of course a crop top, not to mention a classy scarf. I just wish I could've gotten the guy down right. Then the pool in the background would've looked so much cooler.

Girl: It was fun.

Guy: It really was.

This is the latest one! I drew it to commemorate my time at Sankofa, which was the best fun and smile inducing time I'd had all year. I couldn't have wished for a better experience or cast, or memories, or friends I made. I drew Miyah's shirts for the girl, as well as leggings for pants. This was not my choosing, well, ok it was, but I did it for "current" value I guess. I do not support legging pants, as I do not think leggings are ever pants, but I was experimenting with current clothes. The guy wears such a nice outfit though. He wears a jacket with a really nice big collar, and corduroys, my favorite pants. He wears Sock Shoes, an invention I created with Ethan from Symphonic Orchestra. His hands say "West Side," as do hers. It's kind of a Sankofa joke, but not really. West Side for Lyf. The fountain took a lot of time, but it looks really good, I think. And even though I have half of third quarter and fourth quarter ahead, and dozens of weeks, It really all has been fun, and I'm tired.