Peeps, I use Spiderman a lot on my blog for examples and inspiration. I know I should be inspired by real people like Martin Luther King or Jesus or Optimus Prime but I can identify with Peter Parker minus the cool superpowers. Unless you consider being able to quote Pootie Tang line for line a superpower which sadly people do not. The big reason I like Spiderman so much is the internal conflict he has about whether he should be Spiderman or not. He has the power and he (after a tragic loss) accepted the responsibility that comes with being able to help others. Yet, all Spiderman was met with was hatred and indifference. He was deemed a menace by the media and the people. He often put his friends and loved ones in danger. Quite simply, sometimes it felt like no one cared. Peter Parker posed this question to himself several times:
Why do I do this, and is it worth the effort?
That is a very difficult question to ask yourself, especially when you are trying to help someone, change a situation or come to grips with a situation. The fact is, sometimes you have to ask yourself…is it worth doing what you do? Is it worth trying to help the world? Is it worth trying to change the status quo? Is it worth the time to be a hero?
Now don’t get anything twisted, I am not comparing myself to Spiderman. I am definitely more heroic than the Go-Bots and the Rock Warriors but I am no hero. I am just one guy with a blog that rants about his problems for the entertainment of the peeps and with the hope that someone somewhere gets a little gem that they can take away from my posts. I come off as offensive and abrasive but in the end, I use offensive material (USUALLY) as social commentary to make people think. I am in no way a hero, but I like to think that I try to help. And that is all Jebus asks of me.
With all that being said…I am beginning to question why I do what I do. Not in a heroic sense, but what I do in general. I try to be as nice of a guy as possible but at the end of the day, what does being a nice guy get you? You know who else was a nice guy? Jesus Christ. Things didn’t work out for him, I heard he got evicted from his apartment…among other things. I do my best to set a good example for people by not peeing on and sexually taking advantage of minors. Yet, R. Kelly gets invited to see The Color Purple on Broadway which is based off a book…about the trials of a minor that was taken advantage of. I try to be a role model of SOME SORT to the young Black male by staying out of jail, going to college and having a somewhat respectable job (although that can be debated, The Pack aint exactly Target). Yet who gets the praise from the Black community? 50 Cent and…R. Kelly. That man is EVERYWHERE. Even though I am bitter and jaded as hell, I try to treat women with the utmost respect, even to the point of changing my viewpoint about them all being evil. What do I get for being nice? SHIT ON at every turn for the last seven years. I have tried my best for the last 26 years to be the best person I can be and do the right thing and what happens? Carrot Top gets a fucking movie! Where is the justice? What ever happened to fair?! WHERE’S MY ELEPHANT?!
I am beginning to realize that maybe, after 325 posts…maybe it just aint worth it. Maybe doing the right thing, being a nice guy and trying to change the world just isn’t the thing to do anymore. Maybe I should change my name to Duece Stackin Dollaz, get $25K worth of bling, a shitload of tattoos that don’t mean shit, a fat white chick, a 15 man entourage, burn my diploma and yell ‘COUNTIN THEM KEYS, BEE-YI-YITCH!’ all day over a Timbaland beat as I go three times platinum. That is what seems to be what people want. Maybe leading the battle in the crusade against the stupid is no longer needed. It’s like Bart Simpson said:
Can’t Win, Don’t Try.
So from this point on…the Chachi is dead. I’m going to go out and buy an Akon CD, start treating women like crap and get me a whole bunch of baby-mamas because that is what is normal. No need to fight for those that no longer want the help. No need to lead The Revolution…when no one believes in it. Peeps…The Revolution is dead. Maybe someone else will pick up the bat and lead you to the promise land, but I can’t do it anymore. The pain of not knowing whether the right thing is what people want has caused me to stop the fight. I’m sorry, peeps. It’s over. If you excuse me…I have to go to the club so I can smack that. All on the floor. Smack that. Give me some more. Smack that till she gets sore. Smack that…oooohhhh. Stay up, peeps.
I am Chachi…no more.
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