Doomzie. Where have you been? (The Original Entry)

Last updated on March 17th, 2021 at 08:55 am

After reading this entry, I hope you’ll see what I’m seeing. My family don’t get it. My old friends are surprised. People who’re just getting to know me are impressed. Doomz is growing up.

After finishing my exams on Monday and my battle against tastydm300 in (which I won … and I still don’t know how), I haven’t been in the hugest rush to get online. Granted, this also means that my comic is several days behind… but there’s only a handful of people who actually miss it. (And to y’all, I apologize. This LJ entry should be up about the same time as the new strips.)

So I guess the big question is where the hell has this kid been? Why hasn’t he been online? Why does he seem… aiight? Yeah, I ain’t even feelin’ mad right now—I’m just being me. Chillin’ like a villain (and I don’t mean Mr. Freeze styles).

Well lately, Doomz has been getting his knowledge on. Been reading a lot, even when I was supposed to be studying for that Business and Society exam I had (which I didn’t do as well on as I would have hoped—aiming for a 75?). Been trying to cram more information in this oval-shaped cranium of mine. So let’s see what I’ve been checking out.

A Hip-Hop Story by Heru Ptah

This is a novel acclaimed by both M-One of dead prez and The Source magazine, so one would expect it to be good, yes? I ain’t gonna hate—it’s a pretty good novel altogether. I was gonna say it could use a bit more flavour, but then I thought about it. There have been books I’ve picked up, and couldn’t be bothered to read because they were so dry. But looking back on A Hip-Hop Story, I realize that I never really DID want to put the book down. Maybe it was because of the alternative (500 pages of Business and Society readings from the course kit), but I’d like to think I was genuinely interested in its story. The story being the tale of rappers Hannibal and Flawless and how they develop in their worlds and rivalry with one another over the years. It’s really interesting, as you can see various parallels with the way in which today’s rap world is represented, which I think was the intent of Ptah in the first place. I think I’ll read it again sometime, but I have a lot of other things to get off my plate first.

Just because she’s named “Cookie” isn’t any reason why you shouldn’t take the woman seriously (hell, Heru was a pseudonym in the first place)—by reading this book it was obvious that she knows her stuff. With just about 100 pages of information concerning rap music, ranging from its origins in griot storytelling back in Africa to the year 1999, where Lauryn Hill walked away from the Grammys with five awards, I think Lommel managed to create a good primer on rap music (there’s no possible way you could cram a concise history of rap into 100 pages, unless you’re at font size 2 or something). Upon reading this, I realized two things: (1) there’s a lot of things that I didn’t know about rap, and (2) this book is going to be a wealth of information for me in upcoming years. I figure, if I can’t name an older rapper just by looking at them, I’ve got a problem. Y’all just wait until I get my publishing deal… So yes, if any of y’all have any interest in learning how rap got to where it is today, I strongly suggest peeping this.

Vibe, January 2004 issue.

Yeah, so it might be the thinnest issue of Vibe anyone’s ever seen. And sure, it might be yet another article about Jay-Z retiring from the game (for now). So why, you ask, the hell did I buy it? Because it’s the only article about Jay-Z’s retirement… written by Jay-Z himself. Sure, you know, I might diss the Jiggaman for biting Biggie all of the damn time, but I gotta admit—he’s got skills. He may do radio freestyles that are really just lyrics from upcoming tracks, but the lyrics the man writes can be captivating and on point. And yeah, he may have done some ghostwriting for Bugs Bunny’s “Buggin'” (cat’s still got to get paid, right?), but dude can recite words off the top of his dome, so I ain’t complainin’. All in all, I liked the article. I think Jay-Z did a really good job writing about himself (just like how Eminem was acclaimed for acting like himself in 8 Mile… another topic for another time…). So yeah, if y’all got the $4 US to shell out for it, I suggest it.

a RIGHT to be HOSTILE: The Boondocks Treasury by Aaron Scott McGruder

Hell, I don’t care if I’ve mentioned this before—it needs a second mention. The Boondocks has always been a comic strip that has been on point with its criticisms of modern culture and politics and really helps to show a creatively made point about the wrongs and hypocrisies that occur day to day. I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of McGruder’s work, and I’ll keep bigging the man up, even when I make my mark.

Other Books

There’re some other books on the reading list, such as:

  • Esquire (December 2003 issue, the Genius Issue—I might want a subscription to this thing);
  • some issues of GQ and Essence magazine; Fader (issue 20, Kanye West on the cover, discussing the ten artists who will “Top All Pop Charts in ’04” … I bought it for Kanye and RZA…);
  • Rap Whoz Who by Steven Stancell (copyright 1996, so one would expect it to be somewhat outdated);
  • Black Noise: Rap Music and Black Culture in Contemporary America (I’d borrowed this once from the library last year for a project on Rap and its effects on children);
  • and I Make My Own Rules by LL Cool J with Karen Hunter (autobiographies of rappers I respect are always the bomb to read).

So, with that and everything else I want to accomplish over the break, it should be pretty damn busy.

Doesn’t look like getting Internet on my computer is going to become a reality, so I’ll have to make do with what I’ve got. That’s all good—maybe I’ll get a real life or something in 2004. On another note, I’m changing shit up in my life—I’m going to sell a lot of my old CD’s at the used CD store down the road—I’ve outgrown a lot of it, and can rip tracks off of them if I really need to. I mean, what am I really gonna do with a copy of Ma$e’s Harlem World? Hopefully I’ll get some half-decent cash for the lot of it.

The next month, I hope to get working on some of my plans—but my brain needs to recuperate for a little bit, first. Exams took their toll upon it, ya know? goldenhoney will know what I’m saying when I say I been doing crosswords like mad to help strengthen the mind. Granted, I don’t always finish, but I at least put in the effort to make sure I can do better the next time.

It takes an argument to really figure out how differently people think from one another. After work today, a bunch of us stuck around to help put up Christmas decorations. Before we did that, while eating pizza, many of them were saying how they felt that having to say “Happy Holidays” was going a little too far on the entire politically correct thing. They felt that being second or third-generation Canadian, that they had more of a right to what should be done in the nation than those more recently immigrated. Now, I can understand how they feel, but of course, y’all know Doomz. Doomz stepped in and makes people see the other side of the argument. First I argued that it could be culturally insensitive. So they argued that if you come to a country, you should be willing to adopt to its customs. Including adopting a bit of their culture, which in our case, they believe to be Christmas. Then I argued that, unlike America, Canada does not have a strong sense of identity and thrives upon multiculturalism in its urban centres. So, they argued that they were still here first, and they didn’t see how saying “Merry Christmas” could be seen as insulting to anyone, even if they had come from a different upbringing. So, then I went for the hard punches. I broke down Christmas, its history, and the emphasis on Christ. How someone who is Buddhist could be offended by the commercialist materialism that it has come to represent, or someone who is Hindu could be appalled by our singular God and how several Christians go to church, but are yet horrible people (y’all know you know people like that—don’t front). Then they tried to argue that Christianity is the most prevalent religion, and English is the most prevalent language, so we should all conform to it. It wasn’t easy getting through to these middle-aged women. So Doomz thought. And Doomz thought some more. Then Doomz came up with this: “So tell me this. If y’all are so concerned with having been here first, and that people should conform to the customs of those who were originally here… then why don’t we all follow the customs of Native Canadians instead of Christmas?” They rose to speak… but had nothing. Doomz wins again. Biatch!

Y’all really don’t have to read all of this if you don’t find it interesting. It’s just a lot of rambling. Or is it? I was thinking (because you know how much of that I do) about what it would be like to write an autobiography. Then it came to me—by writing an LJ, I’m basically making a resource which I can go back upon in my later years. The things that I jot down in here are the thought I’ve had—the comments that others post reflect the image I projected to others. I think when I finally get around to writing books, I’ll enjoy it, and be able to enjoy talking about my life—as tedious as it may seem right now. I was talking to an old friend from my last job (at dad’s restaurant—he has his Christmas party Monday night), and we came to how she used to be such a party animal and shit, doing drinks and drugs and whatever. Now she’s got a steady boyfriend, she’s working and going to school—it’s funny how people can change over the years. Y’all can go from a stupid youth to having a genius adulthood, or just spiral downward. The kid who was expected to be a great scientist or doctor could turn out to be the world’s greatest journalist (Doomz, anyone?). The world is a funny place, and you just gotta go through it smiling.

So, like I’ve probably mentioned a gazillion times before, it’s kind of hard to get online at my house, with four people sharing the computer and all, and my lust for physical conflict having declined over the years (hell, I even find myself avoiding conversation often enough nowadays). I was planning to go online for a few to see what’s up, but two things are deterring me: (1) I’m hella tired, and (2) someone else is on the computer. I could see from the glow of the monitor on the walls as I looked down. Not that much of a biggie, I guess. But I got things to do, like change my e-mail address (Hotmail is ass and won’t let me send mail), update that damn comic (which would be kind of hard with nothing to update with), etc. etc.

I’m still thinking about what I want to do when I’m done with school and all that jazz. People are like, “Are you crazy? You don’t want to pursue banking? But it’s like a sure job in the future! You’re set, man!” Yeah, so I’m in a job where it’ll probably never die out, since people always need money. Sure, hey, I could make megabucks whoring myself out with fake smiles and holey promises to the customer with the highest offer while never really benefitting the society around me. But like Hannibal said in A Hip-Hop Story, one thing that people often fail to do is see the bigger picture. And that’s the picture that I eventually want to be a part of. I’m not about to let myself become another footnote in the Book of Life. People will remember me when I die. I will do well. And those who stand in my way shall feel the burn of the Blaze.

This a long entry or what? I find that I’m being a lot more computer-productive nowadays since I’m not online nearly as much. But I do owe my typing speed to chatting over the years.

Everyone’s got their own reason for doing things. For the longest while, I kept my journal open (I’ll be closing off entries here and there soon enough). Now, I’m going more towards the route of making entries Friends Only. But I often think about why I’m doing it exactly. I’m not exactly the type of person who’s in search of privacy from others—I’m a strong believer in making honesty one of my primary policies, and although the odd lie does slip out here and there, I make a conscientious effort to try and avoid it. But if someone really wants to hurt me, it’s become hard to do so. I’ve been betrayed, emotionally hurt, physically hurt—not only by others, but by myself at times as well. My spirit’s been through the ringer, and although I haven’t led as bad a life as half the people I know, I’ve been through my own trials and walked down my own paths of darkness. I was thinking about what I’d want for Christmas this year, and more than anything material, I think I’d want one thing more than anything else. Internal peace.

My head and spirit are overlapping messes of conflicting entities. It doesn’t make me indecisive or anything like that—but I never truly feel peaceful. It always feels like I should be making an alternate decision, or that I’m missing out on something in life. I’m always torn between options A, B, and C, and I don’t enjoy it much, to say the least. I should be sleeping right now, but my spirit keeps urging me to get out of bed and write this entry. (At this point, let me apologize for not keeping up with everyone else’s lives—I’ll understand if this entry is too long for anyone to want to bother with.) I don’t exactly know why I’ve become like this—there’s no one really to blame but myself and the way I’ve reacted to situations over the years. But… it’s almost as if there’s nowhere I really feel comfortable anymore… no one that I really feel comfortable with. I’ve grown too different to really sit down with the family; my closest friend, Irene, is younger and has problems of her own in life, so I don’t want to burden her with my constant speculations upon my life … it’s almost as if I’ve got to rely on myself—but I’m not even sure about what I am or what I represent. In a life full of unknowns, I find myself to be the biggest one of all. I often sit on the bus in my own world—just riding the vibe, not really caring about what might happen to me in the next few minutes. It’s sad. I can debate a point well but I can’t hold up a decent conversation without getting antsy. I really don’t get it.

Anyway, it’s time to stop this foolishness and get some work done. This was the Doomz Broadcasting System. Doomsdayblaze out.

The second logo for Casey Palmer, Canadian Dad

By Casey E. Palmer

Husband. Father. Storyteller.

Calling the Great White North his home, Casey Palmer the Canadian Dad spend his free time in pursuit of the greatest content possible.

Thousand-word blog posts? Snapshots from life? Sketches and podcasts and more—he's more than just a dad blogger; he's working to change what's expected of the parenting creators of the world.

It's about so much more than just our kids.

When Casey's not creating, he's busy parenting, adventuring, trying to be a good husband and making the most of his life!

Casey lives in Toronto, Ontario.

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