The Conclusion

“Where’s all the updates you lazy SOB?” – No one actually said this.

Somewhere along the line I’ve lost the ability to wrap up and conclude on my thought processes. This makes it quite hard to finish anything I start on. And I’ve been working on quite a lot as you’ll see.

Despite not having as much spare time as I’m used to, I’m still scribbling on scrap paper, typing out findings, theories and reviews. But I get so far and then struggle to wrap it up. It’s kind of like writers block, but with a delayed affect.

Regardless, there’s still a lot to expect from A Darker Shade Of Black

Well I’ve got a bit more free time coming up so I plan to get this blog back on track. As my frequent readers are already aware, I have loads of opinions. I try to take on issues from alternative view points to provide something that’s hopefully refreshing and humorous.

I guess I feel the obligated to display some evidence of my productivity. Here are some titles you can expect to see on here once I remember how to formulate a conclusion.

‘It Must Suck Being Ugly’ – An exploration into pop culture’s obsession with appearances and it’s affects on ‘real’ life.

‘Get Your ‘Jungle Fever’ Vaccination’ – Black men and white women; it’s a timeless debate, but one that’s rarely battled on even ground. I stick my big nose into the issue whilst stepping on everyone’s toes with Timberland boots on.

‘It’s A London Thing’ – So you want to go clubbing in London? There are a few things you need to know first. Ak-Man breaks down the scene and categorises some of the groups to look out for.

‘Snippet’ – As you know I’m writing a book. I guess it’s not too fair to babble on about how great it’s going to be. So I’ll be posting up a snippet of my work so you can all get a taster.

‘Ak-Man’s Guide To Blind Dating . . . Part Two’ – Don’t think I just left you all out there to dry . . . After delving in to the basics in Part One, the blind dating guru breaks down the actual date. A lot of great pointers are up for grabs.

‘Ask A Nigerian Man’ – If you read ‘Ask A Former McDonalds Employee’ then you’ll know what this is all about. If you haven’t, then check it out.

‘The Worst Shade Of Black’ – This piece is actually finished and ready to go . . . but I’m not too sure if I want to post it up. It’s a collection of some of my worst writing attempts while I’ve been blogging. Writing so poor that it never found its way onto this site. Russian roulette with one empty chamber.

See, I’ve been in the lab folks . . . just need to remember how to wrap things up.

A to the . . .

Writing My Book

In between living and trying to stay alive I’m taking time to put together a masterpiece. I’m working on my book, I’m currently one chapter deep (actually a milestone) and it’s looking like a modern day classic. The first chapter has taken three attempts but I’m happy with it now and I’ve formulated fat chunky chunks of plots and twits in my head. It’s seems that my plan to read several books for inspiration has finally paid off . . . its now plagiarism time! Can I get a High Five on that?

The biggest downer to writing a book is . . . writing it of course! Who has the time and effort for that? It was hard enough coming up with an idea worth getting excited about.

I’ve worked on books in the past . . . I have more ideas than books. And of course I think all of my ideas are potential best sellers. But I have a good feeling about this one. Not that it’ll get published and be a best seller, but I actually think I’ll finish it . . . some time this century. I’ve decided to live past one hundred so it’s not a big deal.

Other than realising the mass of this challenge I’ve also come across a few other contributing factors that may hinder my progress.

Work is the biggest hitter. I always feel like working on my book whist at work . . . then by the time I get home it’s a ‘long ting’, just want to lay back and relax. There are of course the weekends, but weekends aren’t book writing days . . . weekends are actually just Friday nights and Saturdays and I’m 23 . . . even if I don’t end the night with my head pressed against a night bus I’ll find myself glued to the TV watching football . . . and then watching football highlights. So time could be made, but you know . . .

Ugh . . . my dusty laptop is another moral killer. I have to turn it on fifteen minutes before I want to use it. So it makes sense that I don’t shut it down, I always put it on standby. But this tin of tuna decides when it wants to turn off . . . and it gives no warning. Just cuts off. At 10pm, with your alarm set for 6am, you’ll question how much you really desire to get that chapter wrapped up . . . it can wait.

No worries though, I should have a new high spec PC on the way. Wide screen monitor, dual core processor, 300+ GB Memory and some other cool stuff that’ll make it great for watching movies and playing games . . . oh, and writing books as well.

I was easily distracted at school, not too much has changed. But I got good grades, give me a break, I said it’s a masterpiece.

I’m sure I’d make more progress on a typewriter . . . no MSN, Facebook or YouTube to distract me. Just me, my typewriter and a snazzy tip-ex pen . . . box of crayons for the illustrations, one picture every ten pages.

A modern day classic.

A to the . . .

Yeah I'm Gonna Beat My Kids

It might yet be a while till I’m a father but this discussion still interests me. When it comes to the debate on whether or not to beat your children (and by beat I mean spank) I’ve heard long and drawn out arguments from each side.

- Child abuse
- Discipline
- Lazy parenting
- Necessary parenting

The list goes on and on, and strong arguments are made in this verbal tug-of-war. Occasionally an opinion falls into the flammable cipher and everyone gasps in horror at its simplicity. A point of view so straightforward it surely cannot hold any weight. Can it?

“I’m going to beat my kids because my parents told me to.”

*GASP*

Yes, my parents have both directly and indirectly given me a truck load of reasons to beat my future kids if they step out of line. To suggest that I’ll beat my kids because they told me to sounds more or less spineless and cowardly; I won’t dispute that. So maybe if I break it down for you you’ll let me keep my testicles.

First and foremost, this debate doesn’t hold much weight where I’m from; the capital of Africa, home of the brave 419’ers . . . Beyonce sang our national anthem, that makes her one of us. Jay-Z drew water from our wells . . . but I’m not too keen on him so he can stick to the projects.

In Nigeria its common to beat your children when they step out of line, I’d go as far as saying it’s the number one disciplinary option. I got beats, my bro and sister got beats . . . I went to my cousins’ homes and they got beats . . . I’m certain that if I was raised in Nigeria I would have gone to school and got beats.

This was pretty much the norm in my upbringing. I never liked getting whooped, what kid would? Don’t dislike and discipline go hand in hand?

Would it be fair to say that they beat it into my nature? My culture and environment have imposed several other traits on me after all; I believe that this is another one of them.

I’m not eager to beat my kids; surely that’s when the issue slips into child abuse. But now I appreciate the line that was drawn between me and my parents . . . even though I spent the first half of my life loving but not liking them that much. In that sense I’d say they went too far with the discipline. I never looked at my parents as friends, as buddies, as pals. It was always mum and dad; approach with caution.

Beatings at my expense allowed my parents to maintain the parent child relationship. You could of course argue that other disciplinary forms would have been just as effective at instilling fear and respect. Did my parents know at the time that their disciplinary authority over me was dependant on whether the beatings hurt me or not? Surely they were aware that I’d grow older, that one day they’d dish out a beating and I wouldn’t even flinch, much less cry. They knew right?

Of course they did!

I never got a beating that was unjustified, not one I can remember anyway. And unless caught in the act, I was given the opportunity to plead my case (or think up a good lie). Every beating came with a lecture that usually lasted at least one hour; they sat while I stood. My days, the lectures were honestly more painful than the beatings. The older and smarter I grew, the less beats I received and the longer the lectures lasted. Notice the shift?

To further justify my decision to beat my future children I’ll draw attention to another significant ingredient of my upbringing. That ingredient is religion. Raised as a Christian, I went to church on Sundays, read my Bible, and prayed before I went to bed. I often listened in church with tentative ears, hoping (almost praying) to hear loopholes that would benefit my budding mind. None arose, but several suggested that a Christian lifestyle might better fit the parents.

- Honour thy father and mother
- No sex until you’re married
- Spare the rod, spoil the child

God was on my parents’ side. Another reason to begrudge them . . . and He also had several reasons to be angry with me. Three on one . . . you might even say it was five on one (if your brain has warmed up). Not the kind of odds for a kid to get excited about.

Some relief comes in knowing that when I take the parent role God will be on my side if I have to beat my kids. They won’t like it, but hopefully one day, after I've beaten stupidity and rebelliousness out of them, they’ll see me as more of a friend . . . sort of how I see my parents now.

A to the. . .