Meanwhile, In the Bat Cave

Deep within Raving Black Lunatic headquarters, Big Man reclines on his loveseat made from the recovered skin of racists. In front of him sits a small laptop, with a blank "new post" page from Blogger.com on the screen.

Big Man: I think it's over, I don't think I really have the heart for this blogging thing anymore. Every post I write now is a struggle. It's like my mind is shackled or something.

Big Man rises from his chair. Upon first glance it appears he's wearing a fur bathrobe, but a second look reveals the robe is actually made of human hair. It's blond. He walks away from the computer. A screensaver pops up. In big, red block letters it reads: "I ain't gotta do nothing but stay black and die."

Big Man:You know what? I miss the profanity. I miss the profanity and the anger. It was magical during the campaign. Something would happen in the news, and these profanity-laced tirades filled with emotion would just spew from my fingertips. I didn't have to think, I didn't have to parse my words, it just happened.

Where is that feeling?

Is it impossible for me to write without random "m*therf*ckers" tossed in to make it pop? Does that mean it's impossible for me to succeed at this blogging thing? How do I reconcile my Christianity with my inability to be funny without cussing?
It it wrong to curse in the name of art? Is it wrong to sin if God knows my heart? (Big Man makes a point to write down that last line because it might be a hot lyric one day.)

Big Man pours himself a brown liquid from a decanter. Scotch? Brandy? No, it's homemade root beer. He's a cheap teetotaller. He wipes his brow and farts. Then sniffs it. Rico Suave he's not.

Big Man: I can bang out these posts in my sleep, but there's no soul in them. I'm cheating folks, I'm only giving them a cheap imitation of impassioned writing. This cannot happen again. I cannot allow myself to fall victim to mediocrity on yet another project. I cannot allow laziness or just plain "I don't care" to allow me to fail to maximize my priorities yet again. This is just like high school and college.

Yeah, you were a football star at your school, but you should have dominated the state. Yeah, you graduated with honors, but finishing in the top 15 was an insult to your intelligence. You should have been top three. Magna cum laude is nice, but summa cum laude is better. Time after time, you've settled nigga. You're a habitual settler.

Big Man goes back to the computer, the screensaver disappears. A few mouse clicks and he's there. The delete page. He puts his glass on the table and stares.

Big Man, whispering:I should just end it. Maybe it's time. Who cares about quitting, there will be other opportunities. This whole blogging thing ain't making me no money, and it damn sure ain't making me famous. I got babies. I got a wife. I got home improvement projects. I don't need this, I don't need this.


Tune in later this week for the next installment of Big Man Decision here on Raving Black Lunatic...If we're still around.




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