Happiness Math (Not Simple, but Doable)

I must start off by saying that I made a "C" in algebra, and the teacher was lenient on a few tests, so my math skills are questionable.


So we'll start here: Money cannot buy you Happiness.
We'll illustrate this as Money ≠ Happiness

Then we'll go here: Time is Money
We'll illustrate this as Time = Money

Now use the transitive property (or whatever the hell property it is that makes this make sense) and you find that because Money ≠ Happiness, then also Time ≠ Happiness.

Therefore, just as happiness cannot be obtained through a purchase, it also won't come if you're just sitting there waiting on it. You see the math. If you want your happiness you have to go get it, not wait for Father Time to wrap it up for you and deliver it to your doorstep.
And that's about it.

+50 points for reading, even though it's short. +100 for understanding the math. -40 for knowing the correct property (because, if you know it, you're a nerd, and nerds deserve points off).

JOSH, THE SHERM

Sooo...... About that "Revelation".........

Yeah. See. You may have noticed that I obviously lack the focus to blog on a coherent theme. So, while I will do some writing on living, in reality the bulk of my content will be based on initially-random-then-further-thought-out thoughts.

You don't get points for short-shit blogs.

JOSH, THE SHERM

Never Say Never (Except When You Do Say Never)

First, I must say that I am not a Justin Bieber fan, have not seen his docu-concert-movie-thingy, and generally despise his level of fame, however, I do find him to be a slightly-more-talented-than-me individual.

Anyway, I had a little thought on his movie-thingy. Someone told me it was sort of inspirational, like a success story or something. At first I laughed at the idea of this. How could this boy's story be AT ALL inspirational? He wasn't one of the people who came up from nothing. He was from the suburbs of Canada, and got picked up from YouTube (which means he could afford a camera and had internet access), singing, drumming (could afford a drum set), and playing guitar (could afford a guitar). I mean sure, I don't know what was sacrificed for him to get those things, or if he wasn't just borrowing everything, but that sends a signal to me that he was far from struggling.

But then I had to think again. In actuality, this is a success story; specifically, for people like me. Let me explain. When you hear about the world's biggest successes, these people generally start at one of two places. They either were from nowhere and had nothing, or were from somewhere-you-wish-you-could-live and had Ben Franklins falling out of their assholes. Rarely do you hear about middle-class people, the ones from just-outside-of-that-big-important-city and had just-enough-to-be-regular, go from the middle to becoming top dog. As a young member of the middle-class, one is left to wonder whether or not you can achieve any more than being the mediocrity of society. But then, here comes Justin Bieber, boy from suburbia, one of the "regular" people, basically the face of the world of musical entertainment today. Suddenly there is hope that you and I can escape the forgotten middle class, and make it to the upper crust, no longer forced to represent the middle 50% of the population. It is possible for us to be the idols instead of the idol worshipers. That, and quarter won't buy you a pack of gum at Wal*Mart, but for some, it's all the inspiration they need.

The usual points for reading, but -20 if you're a "Beleiber," cuz that's just lame.

JOSH, THE SHERM

So, Let's Look at What Didn't Happen

I want to be angry. I want to point my finger, place blame anywhere and everywhere I can. But it's too early in the game for that and, really, I have to accept that it's my fault. I asked people to spend their time and money to discuss mere possibilities, things that didn't even seem likely to happen. My fault. I didn't consider anyone else's needs in that particular situation. Even so, there were a lot of things that could have gone right.

People were supposed to respond promptly to my messages. People were supposed to show up. We were supposed enjoy a pizza buffet lunch. We were supposed to discuss the following things: a band name, where to practice, personal schedules of availability, how to arrange a gig/show, whether we would be a cover band or do mostly originals, and how we would promote our band. Ultimately, we were supposed to get to know each other, have fun, and leave feeling like we would have a good time together for the rest of the summer. That didn't happen. I'm not giving up, so we'll try again (maybe next time we'll go somewhere free), but one should at least be able to find out all the progress  held up by failing to communicate.

No points today. No one earned them. Not even for reading this.

JOSH, THE SHERM

Girls Gone Natural!!!

A lot of black girls are doing it. They're calling it quits with the permanating and weaves and tracks and whatever else formerly went into to doing their hair. They're taking a bold step into having and caring for natural hair. As I hear it, it's supposed be better for their health and somehow empowering and confidence building. Personally, I have no problem with it. I like it just fine, and don't generally find natural hair any more or less attractive than processed hair. However, I think with your new hair and confidence should come some new rules. Just two actually, and for good reasons. I am a man and as such my opinion should not (and probably does not) matter to you, however, I am an American with a laptop and Internet access so I will state it and post it for the world to see anyways.

Rule #1- You got to let your man touch it.
It's pretty simple. For as long as I've lived that's been a huge no-no for black women. Smack on the booty? No big deal. Grab a breast from time to time? Well, a little booby never hurt nobody. But touch the hair? You are asking for the harshest of slaps and a good tongue lashing to go with it. But, up until your switch to natural hair, you've had an excuse. Your hair used to represent a large investment of time and money. And the things you were doing to your hair meant that it could very well fall out at anytime (or so I was led to believe). O!, the countless dollars earned, borrowed, and stolen only to be spent on your difficult, ethnic follicles.
But, my dears, this is no longer the case. To my knowledge, natural hair is significantly less costly (time- and money-wise) to deal with. And, you now have strong roots with no chemicals threatening to leave your scalp bald and shiny. The least you can do is let a brother feel in it a little bit. Natural hair is probably as new to him as it is to you. Let him experience a long with you.

Rule #2-You must accept that people have opinions
On more than one occasion I have been yelled at for calling someone's hair nappy. They were slightly offended by this, and they insisted that I didn't know anything about natural hair and that "natural" and "nappy" were synonyms in reference to black hair. I happen to disagree. I've seen natural done right, and I've seen natural done wrong. If someone tells you your hair looks jacked up, they're not just saying that because they've become so accustomed to permed hair. They're saying that because on a scale of 1-10 your hair is hittin on about a 2 as far as attractiveness goes. You cannot automatically assume the people who criticize your hair are simply ignorant or that their opinion is of no value. While it may be true that they don't understand natural hair, it doesn't change the fact you look like hobo/crazy cat-lady. Accept this, improve yourself, and move the fuck on.

And that's the rules of natural hair, from a guy who's been fussed at way too much. +50 existence points for reading to the end. +50 if you have natural hair. -40 if you won't let a brother (or sister, mother, father, uncle, cousin, anybody) touch it.

JOSH, THE SHERM