This is my fourth installment in my series of posts on this year’s Black History Month. The previous posts included:

• Operation: Steal Black, from February 15, 2009
• What It Takes To Be President, from February 8, 2009
• BHM Fail, from February 1, 2009

Also, while not part of the Black History Month posts canon, I would also throw in my post from February 18, 2009 called A Disturbing Cartoon as it involves a current event issue that many are relating to a discussion of race.

A long time ago, I would have bristled at the idea of a specific month set aside for Black history. Over the years, though, I recognized the potential for dialogue, exchange and learning that may happen when something like Black History Month was going on. One of the notable vocal detractors of a month dedicated to Black history is actor Morgan Freeman. Here’s a very brief, but telling, clip of his discussion with Mike Wallace about the very same issue:

Now it’s no secret that I’ve hated Morgan Freeman since the film, Bruce Almighty. In that movie, he revealed that, yea, Freeman was truly the one jerking us around who is most often referred to as God. Later in his “movie career” he shewed us that he can jerk over the bird kingdom in a film called March of the Penguins. There he droned on-and-on, all the while penguins suffered, died and sometimes failed to reproduce. Damn you, Morgan Freeman!

But in all seriousness, I’ve been giving the idea of even having Black History Month some credence because I thought that it would be an educational opportunity to learn something about what Morgan Freeman considers American history. Has anyone — whether black or white, red or yellow, rich or poor — learned anything this month? I know I have — not as White, not as Black, but as an American. I’m on Morgan Freeman’s side that Black history is American history.

But ending racism by not talking about race? Could it be that easy? Maybe so.

Personally, I’m glad there’s no White History Month. I don’t have a lot of identification as a white person, and I don’t think that a lot of other white people hold that identification as well, so there wouldn’t be too much point. I’m more inclined to honor my Scottish heritage, since I can actually see uniquely Scottish people who have significantly impacted history. I would have a hard time dealing with a discussion of uniquely white American’s accomplishments — slavery, Jim Crow, segregation, etc. Yeah, I know white people have actually done good things, but White History Month would bring up a lot of negative stuff and probably be more divisive in the end.

So, in summary, if you learned something this month, good for you. I’m pretty sure most people haven’t. While, for me, this was a good learning experience, I’m down with Morgan Freeman on this one now. Black history is American history and, as such should be a part of every American’s civic education. You can’t pigeon-hole American history into the shortest month of the year. Great, now we’ll have to have a series on American History Month and the lack of knowledge Americans have in the basics. Geez, this blogger’s work is never done…

H/T:  End the War on Freedom

This afternoon, Fight Club was on TV. Even though I was trying to meet a deadline for a class assignment, I allowed myself to get distracted by it. I’ve seen it a number of times, but it always seems like I’m watching it for the first time. This time around my favorite scene was when Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt’s character in the movie) was giving a monologue before one of the fights. Read and learn, my fellow space monkeys:

Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who have ever lived. I see all this potential — God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas and waiting tables;  they’re slaves with white collars. Advertisements have them chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit they don’t need. We are the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no great war, or great depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised by television to believe that one day we’ll all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars — but we won’t. And we’re learning slowly that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.

That’s exactly how I’ve been feeling lately, although I’m feeling a bit more literal than figurative about our generation’s coming great wars and great depressions though. More gems from this one can be found by watching the movie, checking out the screenplay or reading the book.

I was once told by a chick that worked at a movie theater that this was “a guy movie.” You know the type — someone who works at a movie theater because they really, really like watching movies so they might as well be able to do it for free. And since they’ve seen every movie, they know all the behind the scenes details and can quite frequently recite long monologues verbatim, they are quite opinionated about what is a good movie. She was of the mind that Fight Club was not a good movie. Anyway as one of the pinnacles of gnosticism-themed cinema, I beg to disagree.

I woke up this morning, as I have on many mornings over the last few weeks, unable to go back to bed. A lot of things have been taking their toll on me recently including classes, personal relationships, the constant horror broadcast by the media nowadays, work (or more appropriately, the lack of it), sensory and information overload from every quarter, constantly questioning my role in this world, etc. Unfortunately, this morning I hit the snapping point and took my stress out upon the rest of the world. Primarily this was done via the Internet through email and social networking sites. If you received a weird message from me, just disregard it — I’m feeling much better now. I came really close to doing what Howard Beale advised everyone to do in the movie, Network:

That would have meant I would have spent most of the day in jail. Luckily though, I was able to chill enough to go back to bed. I was awoken five hours later by a visit from one of the people to whom I sent a crazy, obscenity-laced email. Big ups to Linda for understanding that I was under a lot of pressure. I couldn’t quite articulate what I was feeling, but I think she understood. Later, I realized that a verse from the Green Day song “Having A Blast” came closest to expressing my feelings:

Do you ever think back to another time?
Does it bring you so down that you thought you lost your mind?
Do you ever want to lead a long trail of destruction and mow down
any bullshit that confronts you?
Do you ever build up all the small things in your head
To make one problem that adds up to nothing?

Anyway, I blew off most of my plans for the day to unwind and de-stress by playing miniature golf, visiting the batting cages and hitting the arcade at Adventure Landing in Raleigh. It was a lot of fun and worked wonders for my overall stress level, especially a game in the arcade called Silent Scope. In it, you shoot terrorists with a sniper rifle-shaped controller. Mmmm, fantasy violence… makes me think that I missed my calling in life. Best of all, it kept me out of trouble.