In pondering the significance of the Umpqua Community college tragedy, one of a seemingly unbroken string of mass killings to shake the nation since the shocking Columbine massacre 16 years ago, the first and perhaps most distasteful truth we have to acknowledge is that this shooting will not change anything. I’m sorry to be so blunt. I’m sorry if this sounds defeatist. But any honest assessment of the politics and the culture of firearms in America must come to the simple and inescapable conclusion that thanks to our nation’s out-sized love of firearms, at this very moment somewhere in the Midwest a mother is preparing dinner for a daughter who won’t live to see her 21st birthday, somewhere down South a father and son are restoring an old car that will be completed by just one of them under a somber cloud of loss, somewhere in New England a young couple are planning for a future life together in a world that has a place set aside for only one of them, and this is a scene that is being replayed hundreds, if not thousands of times this very moment all across our country.
Called a reformer, yet still cutting off hands, and heads.
You know you want to see this movie!
On the Internet.
Nojo, want to make a movie? If we can get even a few thousand bucks, we can recruit a film crew and crowdsource the script.
Here’s the frame: Kim Park Kim escapes from North Korea and invents a time travel machine so he can have 100 chances to kill Kim Jong-un but everyone in the world is so eager to kill him, too, he is forced to hold a contest and give away the other 99 chances.
The contest is simple. Kim Park Kim will chose the first 99 most imaginative ways to kill Kim Jong-un.
This sets up story to plot point two. Everyone is showing up at Kim Park Kim’s front door with money, drugs, immense luscious breasts to bribe him into selecting their grisly plan to kill Kim Jong-un.
Hucksters playing the obvious angle try selling time travel devices to North Korea to foil our heroes by murdering Kim Park before he escapes North Korea.
This will get us to plot point two. Even if we’re stuck for ideas, we can retread parts of the Palin opera.
What do you say, Nojo?
Savage, relentless artistry demonstrated by a horn line of kids mostly under the age of 16 and mostly female.
I make no excuses for the drum line but fuckin’ A these little kids ripped your heart out, ate it, burped and then ran back to do their chores.
If you’re not ripping your clothes off during Malaguena, you have no pulse.
Today, Stinque brings you two completely unrelated stories from the great state of North Carolina:
Our first item, comes to us from scenic Randolph County, where the local school board has voted 5-2 to remove all copies of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man from public school libraries, after the parent of an 11th grader complained about the book. Ellison’s novel has heretofore been considered a classic of American literature and an invaluable portrait of the black experience in America and landmark narrative of racial alienation at a time in our nation’s history when, in many regions of the country, African American’s were routinely denied, not just the vote, but the right to eat, shop and attend school in the same establishments as whites. The novel won its author the 1953 National Book award.
However, this assessment has more recently come under fire by members of the Randolph County school board. Speaking for the majority, board member and literary authority, Gary Mason, pronounced that he “didn’t find any literary value” in the work, and so it has been banished.
Our second story, gentle reader, comes to us from Charlotte, where, in a comedy of errors befitting a Three Stooges film, or Movie Night in Hitler’s Bunker, an injured African American man who managed to drag himself away from a horrible accident, found himself, first shunned by a terrified homeowner to whom he had turned for help, and then, riddled with bullets by a police officer who mistook the young black man’s pleas for help as an impending attack. Before making questionable decision to turn to white people in North Carolina for help with his injuries, Jonathan Ferrell played football for Florida A &M, where he majored in Chemistry.
Now, there may be some among you who would seek to find some link between these stories, to see an underlying commonality in a story about members of a white North Carolina school board who see no literary value in the great American Classic Novel of African American alienation and residents and police officers of a North Carolina city who react to the pleas of a wounded African American man with fear and deadly violence. But if that was your first reaction then allow us to assure you that you’re barking up the wrong tree and you couldn’t be more wrong. Trust us, there’s nothing to see here. Apples and oranges. Now, please move on.