Who's Bad?

Believe it or not, there was a time when popular music wasn't solely samples and remakes of old hits. There were artists that composed their own unsampled tracks and wrote lyrics that reflected something happening in their lives. Yes, even pop music consisted of a certain level of depth, but even more so unbelievable, was the immense versatility required to entertain music listeners of the time. Most musicians weren't just singers; they were songwriters, lyricists, dancers, and choreographers. Amidst the sea of talented pop artists, there was one person that stood out to the rest of the world, his name: Michael Jackson.

You'd probably be hard-pressed to find someone in the world that is unfamiliar with at least one Michael Jackson hit; conversely, you'd probably be ostracized by your friends for mentioning a suspected pedophile that dangled a baby from a hotel balcony. Alas, the man notorious for unleashing an assortment of gasps, grunts, squeaks, and squeals across airwaves years ago has been crowned the King of Pop, and rightly so. He began to build his kingdom from the early age of eleven with the Jackson 5's number one single, I Want You Back, which featured a distinguished staccato bass line beneath the innocent voice of a boy soprano pleading for another chance with the love of his life. From here, Jackson began to develop an image for himself that became the face of Motown and iconic of the perfect entertainer.

Fast forward ten years and Jackson has released the album, Off the Wall, which found itself in the hands of over 15 million listeners worldwide and consisted of two number one singles, Don't Stop Til You Get Enough (and the kaleidoscope background) and Rock With You. Having teamed up with award-winning producer and composer Quincy Jones, Off the Wall excited listeners across the nation and sparked a creativity for the duo to create the world's best selling album only three years later, Thriller. From the epic moonwalking at the first live performance of Billie Jean, to the signature badass driving-rock sounds of Beat It featuring Eddie Van Halen, to the intricate choreography in the mini feature-length music video for Thriller, the album became, and continues to be, the most influential album of all time. The release of Thriller was the musical equivalent of dropping an atomic bomb on the world, with only nine tracks leaving an impression in music history for years to come. Last year, it celebrated its 25 year anniversary since its initial release shortly before being inducted to the Grammy Hall of Fame, and it is not uncommon to continue to see its music sampled by artists today. Pop music artists today continue to cite the album as a huge influence on their performance style and writing.

Creating an album to follow up a milestone in music history was a feat that only the King of Pop could achieve. Although Thriller had seven top ten hit singles with two being number ones, in 1987, Jackson released Bad, the only album in the world to date having five number one singles. The album consisted of songs ranging from hit ballads such as "Man in the Mirror" and "I Just Can't Stop Loving You" to dance favorites like "The Way You Make Me Feel" and the frequently covered "Smooth Criminal" which showed his versatility as a singer. The album's title song "Bad" was a brilliantly funk-inspired track, with the blare of trumpets heralding its beginning and the 16 minute full length music video guest starring Wesley Snipes as the hoodlum that's apparently not as "bad" as MJ.

In the early 90s, a new genre of grunge alternative rock music began to take hold of America with bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam leading the movement. Even with the culture's change in musical taste, Jackson's album Dangerous released, with "Black or White" immediately jumping to the top of the charts. This upbeat track featured a distinct electric guitar riff that complemented its in-your-face anti-racism message. It was also one of a few that he composed over the years that had intended to serve a humanitarian purpose (see also: We Are the World, co-composed with Lionel Richie, and What More Can I Give, written for the victims of 9/11).

After a ten year hiatus in original music composition due to overindulging in court appearances for multiple hearings for suspected molestation, divorcing, marrying, and divorcing again, Jackson released Invincible, his last album containing entirely new material. Many of the songs on this album were nostalgic of his old sound, although nowhere near as fresh and original as the ultimate entertainer that the world knew from a decade before. Regardless, Michael Jackson remains a living legend in the eyes of many, his solo career marked with one Grammy and Billboard number one hit for each square kilometer of his recently foreclosed California home at Neverland Ranch (that's thirteen total).

Despite his extraordinary efforts and achievements in the music industry, Jackson has also been a magnet for negative media attention. Is he deserving of it? Not necessarily. Although he did purchase ATV Publishing, the company that controls all copyrights belonging to John Lennon/Paul McCartney compositions, and named his son and daughter, respectively, Prince Michael Jackson and Paris Michael Katherine Jackson, he's not all that bad of a guy. Almost reminiscent of a recent case regarding R. Kelly, in 1993, the news was flooded with rumors from the courtroom as Jackson fought a suspected molestation case against a thirteen year old boy that frequented Neverland Ranch. However, unlike the non-child porn possessing Pied Piper, Jackson's lawyers settled with the boy's family outside of court for a mere $15 million, which was no admission of guilt by any means. And his not-so-natural skin color? He obviously has vitiligo, a chronic condition where your body begins to kill the pigment-forming skin cells forming light-colored blotchy patches on the skin. So it doesn't completely explain his almost-white skin color, but if you had tons of money, you'd probably get a chemical skin treatment to cover the fact that you had a chronic skin condition... right?

Alright alright, so the fact of the matter is that unfortunately you might still get made fun of by your friends for liking Michael Jackson. But rest assured, in another twenty years you'll still be able to claw the air like a zombie when Thriller comes on and everyone will understand why.

RIP Michael Jackson (1958-2009)

...One hell of a drug.

54 year old African-american female came into our clinic today. When I rescheduled her last week for this appointment, she wasn't "feeling good"; she then called back the next day to complain about how someone from the clinic called her to "give her hell" about how she didn't come to her appointment. After surveying all employees at the clinic, I found that her accusation was indeed false.

So back to today: she comes into the clinic wearing skinny black spandex pants and a backless shirt showing more cleavage than I thought was physically possible. It's 96°F outside and a cool 60°F in the townhome-turned-clinic and she's complaining to herself in the waiting area that it's "too hot in here". As I'm looking through her patient history, one major detail piques my interest. When she started coming to this clinic in October 2008, she was taking a lot of prescription pain-killers that were not prescribed to her, an assortment of uppers, down-ers, and numb-ers: Vicodin, codeine, Xanax, and Zoloft were among the ones that I recognized. Her last appointment with us 3 weeks ago shows that she's now enrolled in a program at a methadone clinic. Methadone basically keeps you from feeling the symptoms of opioid withdrawal while maintaining "pain relief" [really is awesome stuff, suggested wiki reading].

I call her to the back. I look over her prescribed medication list and ask if she's still taking her lisinopril, to which she replies "I did today". I take her blood pressure and I am completely blown away: 174 over 98. 'Impossible', I thought to myself, 'How is this lady even living a normal life?' I took it again on the other arm: even higher this time. Starting to doubt my blood pressure reading abilities, I said, "Let's go weigh you and we'll try this again". Weight's fine. Tried the BP readings again, and to my dismay, both arms were at/around a high of 177 over 102. Now this entire time she's bumbling to herself about how pissed off she is about this and that, I would have only been able to hear it had the thoughts in my head not been screaming "STAGE II HYPERTENSION" at me. After excusing myself from the treatment room to find the overseeing nurse, I'm thinking to myself that we need to get this lady to an ER (while I text the same thought to my best friend). The nurse looks over her chart and shakes her head in disappointment, "Missed appointments, drug rehab, methadone clinic, and she's still taking a 30 day prescription that was supposed to run out last month...let's go try talking some sense into her".

I followed her into the treatment room and listened to the nurse explain how the BP medication needs to be taken regularly while setting up for another reading. Record high score: 184 over 104. Awesome. The nurse asks a few questions about the rehab treatment she's been undergoing recently then tells her that she needs to be seen by a physician. The patient angrily yelled, "<removed for explicit nature>! And I sure as hell see enough doctors every week, I don't need another one telling me how to live my life!" Game over. We lose.

Things I must ponder at a later date, when I have time:

• She's been enrolled at this methadone clinic for at least 2 months now. Methadone causes low blood pressure and hypoventilation [1][2]. Why does she have high BP now?
• IF she indeed took the lisinopril this morning, why didn't she have lower BP today than 3 weeks ago, when she had not taken it for a week? With the other people I've seen, even if they haven't been taking their BP meds regularly, if they take it the morning of their appointment, their BP shows a drastic decrease.
• With no health insurance, no steady job, possibly family that has abandoned hope for you; why would you NOT take the FREE assistance from people that are experienced and professionally licensed health care providers?

The unappreciative nature of some people disgust me.

I've had enough change.

Richmond Tax Day Tea Party
Wednesday, April 15. 6:00pm.
Kanawha Plaza at 8th Street and Canal Street: Richmond, VA

We Are Patriots. We Are Defenders of the Constitution. We Believe That Ignorance and Freedom Cannot Co-Exist. We Believe, as Our Founding Fathers Did, That the Only Way for the Nation to Prosper Is to Have Equal Protection of "Rights", and Not to Allow the Government to Get Involved in Trying to Provide Equal Distribution of "Things."

"We must not let our rulers load us with perpetual debt."
- Thomas Jefferson. July 12, 1816.


"I spoke in Charlottesville earlier today. They had about 1,400 people, and I think you've got them by more than 3 to 1."
www.richmondteaparty.com

You know, I'm no right wing extremist. In fact, I don't consider myself "right wing" at all. But, damn it, the debt is bad enough without squandering more money on stuff like the war in the Middle East and steps toward universal health care. Yeah, I went to the Richmond Tea Party in the cold and rain. Yeah, I took these pictures and video with my phone. Unlike walking around campus at VCU, it was comforting to know that more than 5,000 other citizens agreed with me.

To the slumlords of Richmond City

Metro Properties
200 West Franklin Street
Richmond, VA 23220


31 March 2009

removed for evaluation




Moral of the story: Don't rent from Metro Properties.

Nothing better.

Nothing in collegiate sports makes me happier than:

1. VCU winning and
2. Duke losing,

respectively.

Say hello to the 2009 CAA champions, Virginia Commonwealth University


Oh, and Duke won the ACC crown.
I guess even hobos can win the lottery.

Daring greatly.

Dear World,

After much consideration from the past 22 years of perpetual degradation, I realized that I have much to think about. Prior to now, I thought my life goal, as cliche and generic as it may sound, was to "help people by improving their health and quality of life". I do not know that I will ever achieve a higher-level degree in clinical health sciences, nonetheless gain admission to medical school. This is not what’s important to me right now. What I know is that I want to commit my life to helping other people in any way I know how; this may include, but is not limited to, clinical medicine, medical research, and family life. I realize that I may not have been born with an exceptional ability to learn, but through my life experiences, I have developed an extraordinary ability to love others. I feel it is my responsibility to help people in a way that is bigger than myself and there is no means more common to humankind than the body they live in.

I am trying today to be a be a better person than I was yesterday. I am not blaming you for the "damage" I am currently fixing, with all the obstacles that you've thrown my way between family and school and, well, life. I am completely at fault for my scholastic ineptitude and lack of focus, however, believe me when I say that I have come a long way since I left for college 5 years ago. The most difficult thing about myself that I am changing is this self-degrading attitude that I've developed as a result of the hardships you've left me with. But as I said, I'm not blaming you a bit. You've provided me with an innumerable amount of experiences, morals and intellect that I can offer to anyone, and I am forever in your debt. Because of you, I'm empathetic, optimistic, and cheerful in the face of disaster. Because of you, I'm kind, understanding, forgiving and patient with others that have wronged me.

Because of all this, I have only one thing in my entire life that I will ever ask you for: Please just take a chance on me. I have to get into one of these programs. I need this so badly. I don't ever ask anything of you because I no longer have many expectations from you, life, the world. But please, just throw me a bone here. Maybe I'm not the most deserving of people for an opportunity like this, but I hope to God that I'm fairly high on that list.

Well, that's all I've got for now, take care of that whole global warming thing for the time being. Thank you again for reading this far because you will never know how much this means to me.

Sincerely,
K. H.

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

-- Theodore Roosevelt, Speech at Sorbonne
April 23, 1910

Semi-charmed kind of life.

This afternoon, I was in line at the grocery store. I purchased chicken strips, rice, an assortment of crackers, and butter. I stood behind three people in the Express Lane with my grocery basket, iPod headphones in my ears blaring "Raspberry Beret" by Prince. My eyes wandered all over the store, from the two girls in self-checkout next to me that got in their line after I had gotten in mine, to the cashier donning the gold shimmering sunglasses with the word "Ezekiel" tattooed on the nape of his neck, and finally the man standing in front of me.

There was nothing particularly interesting about his appearance: maybe mid-40s, short, dirty blonde hair, and wasn't exceptionally tall nor notably short. The only thing I found curious about him was the way he was carrying his seemingly heavy, overburdenous basket and his extremely thick, khaki colored trenchcoat, but seeing as it has been about 30°F all day, the latter wasn't particularly out of the ordinary. He was carrying his basket with both hands placed in front of his thighs. I couldn't help but look, but there was a wad of cash rolled up in one hand and a lot of white rectangular boxes in the basket. When it was his turn to be checked out by the cashier, he dumped well over a dozen boxes of a generic brand knockoff of Robitussin DM onto the conveyor belt. I was completely in awe. No one else seemed to notice, not the asian kid behind me unloading his boxes of macaroni and cheese from his basket, not the two girls checking out their own groceries next to me, not even the "Ezekiel"-inked cashier scanning all the boxes of 'Tussin.

The man paid the cashier in cash, took his grocery bags full of cough syrup, and walked straight to the SunTrust ATM to withdraw more cash. I was so distracted by the man and his massive purchase, that I didn't even hear the cashier ask me for my customer card. I walked right to the pharmacy and asked the the pharmacist if there was a maximum quantity of products containing Dextromethorphan that one was allowed to purchase at once. She replied that there isn't, and apparently there isn't an age restriction either, but that particular grocery store checks to ensure that the purchaser is over the age of 18.

This startles me to no end. For the nondrug-savvy population, products containing "DXM", typically most of the cough syrups that have the letters "DM" at the end (ie: Robitussin DM, Dimetapp DM), are used amongst youth and others addicted to such substances of the like to achieve a "high" of sorts. The inexperienced user typically just chugs as much of the syrup (about 2 full bottles) to get high, the more seasoned DXM users extract it out of the syrup to achieve its full effect without the medication grogginess (in case you're interested in how this godforsaken stuff is made, instructions can be found here). With enough cough syrup, one can extract DXM and have an experience somewhere between an LSD-like "trip" and a crystal meth-like "high". With proper storage, you can pawn this substance off onto others for a small profit.

Maybe it's not my place at all to voice an opinion on other people's actions if it is legal, but I don't understand how people can get away with doing stuff like this. Maybe a law should be passed that all DM containing products should be kept behind the counter, maybe there should be a maximum allowed quantity purchase. But then the same legislature would have to be passed for whipped cream cans (so as to prevent the masses from doing "whippits"). DXM has not been proven to create a physiological addiction, but it's been shown to create psychological addictions. The user gets used to the feeling of being "high", the accessibility of the drug, and the ease of increasing dosage should they begin to develop tolerance. It still causes brain damage. It still causes so many adverse reactions and literally hurts your body, don't people know it's just not worth it to put your body through it only for a few hours of euphoria?

Everyone is given one body, what you do with yours is up to you, but I want to be the one to make sure you don't continue to abuse it.

*sigh* Oh, nine.

Well, so much for that. Successfully canned 2008 and, whether we were even ready for it, 2009 stormed in. I used to hate it when people would say "Wow, I can't believe that the year is over already!" or "Man, that year just blew by!", or something of the like. 2008 was the first year that I actually feel went by a lot faster than it should have. I found myself at the end of the year grabbing straws as if I were going to die the minute it turned 1/1/2009. It was a year I felt I wasn't living: I lived for school and work and everyone else and would have died before I did anything for myself.

• Spring 2008: 21 credits with work and what a mistake that was. My coworker, Suzie, left me for a job at the School of Pharmacy, but I made a new great friend, Heather, in her place. Ended a "thing" with a guy that I probably should have never started to begin with. My roommate hated him, my friends thought he was shady, not to mention that I was just a novelty to him. Apparently us asian women are in a high demand amongst our caucasian male peers. Ran the Monument 10K in the rain in about 53 minutes (shrug, shouldn't have stayed up until 4am that morning). Ran the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in about 27 minutes. Stood in monsoon-like freezing rain for about 5 hours to see Radiohead live at Nissan Pavilion. It was totally worth the wet, smelly drive home and frostbitten toes.


• Summer 2008: Learned a lot of new definitions that summer. Worked every day from 8am to 5pm, defined the typical "office job" in my book. Met the most amazing person in the world only to learn the meaning of "bad timing". Had the greatest time in NYC and LA, only to realize that said person personified "heartlessness". I firmly resolved that I would do the same, maybe it would keep me from having emotions. Also met a guy that redefined the phrase "dumb as dirt", showed me how small Richmond really is when you're stuck in a world where everyone is like yourself.


• Fall 2008: Ouch. 3 graduate classes, 2 undergraduate classes, teaching assistantship, office work, and my sister's personal wedding planner. Talk about a tough 4 months right? Honest to god, I've never worked harder, slept less, ate less, not been in my apartment as often as I had in this semester. I lived in my office and literally slept at my desk probably 3 to 4 nights a week. So you might be asking, "Why would someone do this to themself?" I guess I was trying to prove something to my dad, my friends, and myself. I wanted to show my dad that he's wrong about me not being able excel in science; I wanted my friends to see that I'm serious about graduate studies in the medicine; and I wanted to know for myself that I can do anything if I want it bad enough. I got a MacBook and subsequently fell in love with all things Apple. Made my entire life run on Google. Re-established a kinship with my older sister while planning her wedding after she discovered that the friends she thought were "close" were not really friends at all. Learned that I'm an awesome Maid-of-Honor speechwriter. Trekked across the country with my $250-friend to UCCS. My best friends are going to stick by my side no matter what I'm going through and I love them for it.


• Winter 2008: Spent time with my momma, it's a lot harder than it sounds, trust me. It's never been so lonely at home without my brother and sister around. Of course everytime I saw my dad (which I tried to make as infrequent as possible), he lectured me about something. Won my fantasy football league and might even win the Blackfinn Pick 'Em league. Played the "heartless" card on a few boys, wondering if it's starting to become a defense mechanism. Realized that the only person in this world that's going to help me get what I want is myself. Went to the Downtown Countdown with my almost-bigbrother/cousin and his friends and had a blast. Caught up with an old friend that I haven't talked to since high school. It's amazing how much I've changed in 6 years.

So what's in store for 2009? Well, first and foremost, the theme is going to be self-improvement. I'm going to be running every race I can this year and run a consistent 8 minute mile, no matter what the total distance is. Eating healthy could also be a good start and not eating everything that comes out of a package or box. Also going to try looking groomed and maintained no matter how tired or beat I am; inherent in that is finally learning how to use makeup.

A newer friend of mine said that you should tell everyone your dreams, because out of all the people that belittle you, there might be one person that may help you achieve what you want. For her, it was her boyfriend. I don't know who it might be for me, but it wouldn't surprise me if I haven't met that person yet. Maybe I should learn to trust people more, maybe I should learn to let people into my world no matter how uncomfortable it feels. Though, it's really hard after you've done it before and been shot down so many times. There were definitely times in the past year that I doubted my capabilities and intellectual capacity, but I'm going to try and not do that anymore. I know I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, but I'm not dumb; just a little slower than everyone else I guess.

All the effort in the world won't matter if you're not inspired. And believe me,
I am inspired.