Two days ago, I was born again.
I stared into the face of God, and it was Morgan Freeman. Morgan Freeman made the world, and he saw that it was good. Then he blessed his children with an appearence in the movie Driving Miss Daisy and the voice part for March of the Penguins.
"Hello, children. My name is Morgan Freeman. I like penguins. Why? I am a penguin."
Morgan Freeman. Hoke. Nelson Mandela. Joe Matheson. God. Carter. President Beck. Detective Somerset. Ellis. Need I reinforce that HE IS GOD?
Actually, he refused to even talk after the screening. In fact, the only times he said a word at all were when three different people asked a question specifically for "Mr. Morgan Freeman." The third was mine, and it was, "I have a question for Mr. Freeman. Can I touch your face?"
The reason he chose not to talk after the screening was because his grandchild goes to the primary school, and a couple of years ago he went there for Grandparents' Day. Everyone wanted his autograph and was taking pictures, and the other grandparents thought he was hogging all of the attention, so they complained to the school. The school, for some idiotic reason, informed him of this. He was so embarrassed, he vowed to never return to my school. We had to promise him that there would be no autographs or pictures so that he would come here again. They didn't even announce it to the school--it sort of leaked out. And he didn't talk. I wish I could track down the grandparents who complained about him and just beat them to the ground. Even if it's an old lady with a walker. So I guess I do have a dark, violent, Grand Theft Auto side to me.
Afterward, I stood on the curb of the driveway by the chapel and watched him drive by. I was about five feet from him, but he kept his eyes on his phone. I even flashed him, but that was when I was at home in my dark bedroom watching Bruce Almighty on Instant Netflix. Either way, we never made eye contact.
To clarify, there were two screenings that I went to. One was for the high school students only. The next one was for parents, teachers, alums, and any high school students who were willing to sleep with the guards in order to get inside--and that's the only screening that Morgan Freeman went to. The directors of the movie went to both. They were allowing time for questions toward the end, and then the directors asked the students about their experiences of prejudice in their lives. Five students answered. Two had serious answers. The other three? Not so much. One claimed that he was half-Jamaican--(in his words, "Jamaican, you know? Like Bob Marley?")--which of course he was not. He said that because he was half-Jamaican, people are always saying that he smokes weed and eats wheaties.
Another was a black student. He stood up and said, "Well, my friend and I were in the woods, hunting, and some random guy called me the n-word. Then, next thing we know, we're sitting in a cold jail cell for four and a half hours." The director replied, "Hold on--why were you arrested?" The kid answered, "Well, we were at the mall--" The director interrupted and said, "I thought you were in the woods, hunting." The kid said, "No, we were definitely at the mall."
The last student was a Cambodian-American girl who is notorious for talking like the stereotypical black person. She has said on multiple occasions that she wants to be a comedian, and it was showing here.
"Well, hi. My name is Lilah. People look at me all the time and say that I'm Asian. I'm not Asian--I'm Cambodian!!! I'm like at the mall or something and Asian people walk up to me and they're all 'ching chong ching chong.' And I'm like, 'What'choo talkin' about?' And also, people make fun of me because I talk like I'm black. And the only thing I can say to them is, 'Hey, that toy you're holding in your hand? That's mine.'"
The director was so astounded he hardly said a word. Our school ended up looking really racist, and I don't think any celebrities will be coming here in the future. Besides maybe Rebecca Black or the guy who invented the car phone.
Speaking of Rebecca Black, if you haven't heard any of her songs yet...nevermind.
Yesterday, my friend and I invented a really awesome game where you see who can get the most people to say hello to you. You can say hello to them first, but you have to know their name. I got 82, and he got 104. I started to feel like I was manipulating people, though, because whenever they said hello back to me, I would sometimes shout involuntarily, "Yes! 44!"
It also convinced me to go talk to this girl that I really like who I'm always really nervous around. Usually I'm not usually too nervous about talking to girls, even though I'm really shy. But when I was talking to her yesterday, I was so nervous--I could hardly get any words out. I was slurring a lot and repeated the same question once or twice. Absolutely mortifying. I don't think I'd stand a chance with her, but I found her phone number and home address, so it's only a matter of time.
Sorry I haven't been able to respond to your comments for a while. Believe me, I've tried. I've written the most poetic, lengthy, heart-warming replies you've ever seen. But every time I try to publish a comment, it says that blogger was unable to complete the request. I'll try again soon.
You guys were making so many jokes about how white I am in the last post! Today, I got home from track practice, ate a snack, curled up on top of the washing machine and took a nap, drew a long, hot bath, ran a marathon, built a house for a homeless man, built a school for crippled orphans, cured cancer, and then golfed in space. After all of that, I signed onto The Nerd Archives and I was like, "Hm...I think I'll read the comments. Oh, I remember I posted a picture of myself, which I haven't done in a while. I wonder if anyone will think I'm pretty." But then there everyone was, suggesting I use bronzer and telling me how white I am in the picture. Of course I'm white--I'm in an AQUARIUM! That's how people look in AQUARIUMS! Even a black cat would look white in an AQUARIUM!
I'm actually very tan. I was voted tannest German-American in the city of Greater Atlanta in 2007 and 2009. When people think of me, they think of tanness. When people talk about Christopher K, their friends say, "Oh, is he the tan one?" I have a brand of Tanning Lotion named after me, Christopher's Desert Mist Tanning Lotion, and a chocolate milkshake nick-named after me at the local Burger King. My parents locked me in the wine cellar for three days to prevent me from getting any tanner, and I'm wanted by the FBI for being just too tan.
Where am I going with this? I don't know.
For any of you interested in video games, do me a favor and check out the blog of a couple of my friends of mine who write video game reviews and news, Red Platoon. Whatever you do, just don't refer them back to me, because I'm still trying to mantain this blog's anonymity best I can. For those of you not interested in video games, WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU READING THE CHIN SCRATCHER?!
Socks, Drugs, and Rock'n'roll, by Buffalo Daughter
How It Ends, by DeVotchKa
That Blond Guy
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Two days ago, I was born again.
Posted by That Blond Guy at 6:52 PM