I don’t know exactly how to define what I want. I don’t think that it is educational equality and I don’t think that it’s an increase in the capital S Scholarship. I don’t think that it’s a boost in test scores and I don’t think that it’s a rise in higher education enrollment. I might be discarding these options because I don’t really meet most of these qualifications myself. I think that what I’m looking for is simply defined in curiosity. Using KISS, this must be my final answer. What happens to childlike zeal for the unknown? I will hopefully get back to you on that.

I actually get up every day and look forward to my first cup of coffee and turning on the morning news.  I am excited to learn what is going on in the city and need to learn if there are any subway problems.  Am I an adult yet?

I recently got a full time, 9-6, job and I am very  enthusastic about going to work every day for a regular amount of time.  Am I an adult yet?

I pay for my own rent, electricity, gas, cable tv, and internet.  I actually write checks every month.  Am I an adult yet?

I still enjoy a good nap now and then.  Nope.

I don’t know how to write about the importance of reading, the gravity of curiosity, and the usefulness of useless knowledge without sounding egotistical, pretentious and vain and I apologize preemptively.  All I can say is that it apparently worked out for me pretty well as most of the jobs that I had previously were solely using skills I learned as a hobby.

Reading is not a talent, nor a skill, and it really should be utilized as the ubiquitous solution to boredom and problem solving that it was meant for when your kindergarten teacher first made you sound out the words to Goodnight Moon (or Goodnight God if such was your early education).   Although personally my fight in terms of education would more likely be the proliferation of new cultural views on science and math, the idea that reading is still a rare concept in college educated folk is crazy to me.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about the reading that involves actually having to open a book and read cover to cover; I mean the reading that satiates curiosity and fills in gaps in the brain.

Whenever you wonder something, read about it.  Useless stuff comes up once in a while.  Useless stuff can get you regular full time jobs with health insurance and 2 weeks vacation.

One day, while in disguise at the local market, he began posing questions to his grand vizir for the sole purpose of passing time in conversation rather than encountering delight and intrigue in their own wisdom. He asked, “Grand Vizier (the sultan treated him more nobly than I), what do people need more than anything else?”

“Food,” the grand vizier replied immediately with a tacit air of obviousness. Before the sultan could respond in the affirmative, a bold beggar on the side of the street responded to refute their conclusion.

“Only if you are hungry,” the beggar said to the veiled sultan. The sultan considered the beggar’s point internally but not particularly wanting to respond to such an unwanted interruption, he continued the conversation with the grand vizier. Inside the sultan’s mind, he couldn’t truly agree with the grand vizier’s conclusion in light of the more correct assertion of the beggar. People only needed food when they were hungry, or else it was useless. Furthermore, food was only one of the basic needs of human existence and he would be very disappointed in himself if he found that most of his subjects only had food to live with.

In continuing with his grand vizier, the sultan asked, “What do people want more than anything else?”

“Money,” the grand vizier said, again implying that answering such an obviously answered question was obviously a waste of his time.

Again, the beggar offered his own clarification to the vizier’s answer and said “Only if what you really want is for sale.” Not knowing the noble post of his accidental comrades, this time his voice sounded much more like a mother correcting a incredulous toddler than a beggar correcting a nobleman on the street.

The sultan had to again concede that the beggar was once again more right, despite the original rightness of his grand vizier. At this realization, the sultan pushed past the horrible smell of a man who has not bathed in weeks and not changed clothes in longer, and went over to the beggar and began to ask him about his history and education. “My name is Madheman; I have always been a beggar and my parents were beggars,” said the now surprised beggar. “I have lived on these streets with my only business as asking for alms and my only entertainment as listening to the passers-by.”

Amazed at the wisdom of this vagabond, the sultan inquired as to why he did not have any real job or profession. To this, Madheman responded that he has always wanted one but no merchant or shop owner would hire a homeless street person like himself. “Come with me to the palace,” the sultan said and he brought the beggar to his castle and also brought him into the secret of his disguise, both against the protestations of the grand vizier.

When at the palace, the sultan ordered for Madheman to be bathed and given normal clothes and be put to the menial labor of cleaning the floors of his palace. With a puritan work ethic, wisdom beyond his station, and an immense appreciation for his removal from the Agrabah underworld, Madheman succeeded diligently at any task given to him. He did everything flawlessly and efficiently and the sultan always noticed his good work and honest life. From floor cleaning to jubba ironing to tiger groomer, Madheman was promoted in the sultan’s household until he was eventually his personal confidant, esteemed advisor and de-facto grand vizier.

This quick ascension made many other members of the royal house very jealous, most of all the grand vizier. He always knew the low-born nature of the beggar and could never reconcile this with the beggar’s place in the palace especially considering that it was practically his own. Soon, many of the subjects came together to collude against Madheman and decided that the grand vizier would be the executor of their plan. The next day, after convincing himself of his proficient acting skills, the grand vizier requested a private audience with the sultan to discuss a matter of great importance and urgency. When assured of their privacy, the grand vizier looked very apologetically at the sultan and began to describe the true nature of Madheman.

“I have been told some very disappointing news, your highness,” said the grand vizier. “I would not have come to tell you without first confirming it for myself, but I have investigated and sadly there is no denying that your beloved, trusted, and dear friend Madheman, is actually an evil, conniving, ruthless, power monger who is trying to gain your trust and then erode your kingdom to take over for himself. I have seen first hand that every morning, before he does anything of importance, before he even brushes his teeth or washes his face, Madheman goes into his cellar and prays to an evil genie there for your death and his overthrowing of Agrabah. I did not wish to believe it myself, because I only respected and loved your dear servant before this knowledge, but I have no doubt in the veracity of this intelligence as I have checked into it myself.”

The sultan originally conflicted at this news but after some thought, stood by his confidant and told the vizier that even if Madheman did go to the cellar every morning, there was no reason to believe this ludicrous story concocted by envious political opponents. The vizier, as his job was to convince, persisted in warning the sultan of the danger of his allegiance with Madheman. The vizier would not relent and the sultan would not believe rumors so it was ultimately decided that the sultan would himself seek the answer to these questions in order to appease the vizier. He resolved to go to Madheman very early the next morning and find out for himself.

The next morning, the sultan woke up Madheman at an obscene hour and said that there was a very urgent matter at the palace involving a neighboring nation that required Madheman’s wise counsel immediately. Completely surprised by the appearance of the sultan, instead of one of his servants, at his door, Madheman told the sultan that it would be his honor to come to the aid of his sultan and just needed to go back inside to get into proper dress to appropriately respect the sultan’s palace. The sultan told him not to worry about that because he was needed immediately and commanded him to come to the palace immediately. Madheman then politely told the sultan that he just needed to brush his teeth and he would come back outside in one second. The sultan said no but Madheman persisted in requesting permission to be allowed back into his house. The sultan, now doubting his previous conviction, finally told Madheman that he could only go back inside if the sultan was allowed to come with him.

Madheman said that because he was his sultan, he could not refuse his request but he would prefer if he didnt come with him. The sultan availed himself of the opportunity and with great trepidation followed Madheman into his cellar where he saw only a suitcase on a table. The sultan’s heart sank, believing the suitcase to be the dwelling of the evil genie and knowing that his next required step would be to execute his beloved Madheman. Madheman then opened the suitcase and a nasty stench filled the room. The sultan very carefully tiptoed over and peeked over Madheman’s shoulder and instead of seeing a genie, he saw very old, dirty clothes. Silently returning to his previous position, he waited for Madheman to finish his prayer over the clothes and they went outside to go to the palace.

The sultan asked Madheman what that was about and Madheman told him that those were the clothes that the sultan first saw him in. He never wanted to forget where he came from and always wanted to be greatful for what he had risen to. His ritual was solely in order to never take anything for granted because he was really a beggar and no amount of money or power would make any difference to him.

The sultan was very impressed with his wisdom and honesty. He beheaded the grand vizier and his cohorts.

If you have ever seen the show 30 days, you might have seen the episode where an atheist mother had to live with a super christian, god-sanctified, and nuclear family of four with another baby on the way. The biggest concern that the christian father had with the heathen atheist mother was that he found no tangible way to teach children how to be good, moral people without the use of the bible as a parabolic tool and could only conclude that her children were unprincipled and shameless kids with no guidance in life. At the time, I only thought that the guy was stupid for not believing that children could be raised by example and not only through reading the good book of the lord god our father. Now, I think that there is a much more complicated response to his issues, especially in terms of my life. Despite the plethora of bible stories read in my household, my morality was actually defined by stories uninspired by god and his will.

In addition to the daily bible readings, my father told me stories nightly, to put me to bed as his father did with him. These stories were mostly folk stories of his region in south India mixed with redesigned-in-the-moment stories he read when he was a kid. This included the story of the bishop and the candlesticks in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables to small excerpts from the Sultana Scheherezade’s tales. Without my real conscious understanding, these stories were in direct competition with the morning biblical fables for the prize of capturing my mind and shaping my morality.

I’ll figure these things out eventually. (The previous sentence used to be ‘I’ll be addressing these concerns eventually’…see what I’m talking about; I’m George Washington’s pen.) Practice is the only way to make yourself better at something and I can get myself dedicated to things when I want to.

I am now a real life working class citizen, getting up every day to increase the GDP of our wonderful US of A. I have five jobs and hopefully that will soon change to just one or two.

I am reading a lot nowadays. I finished 1984, The Arabian Nights, all the Sherlock Holmes stories, and the Importance of Being Earnest, in about a month. I just started Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield yesterday. This was the first book that my dad ever read in english, when he was about 10 years old. His old English grandfather diction makes so much more sense to me now. The only problem with this discovery is that it annuls the idea that my writing style’s seriousness could have stemmed from the same cause as my father’s speech. I never read these books when I was younger and god only knows what my great christian school taught me. (Although, I must admit that the ‘Literature Department,’ if you can call it that, was run very competently.)

Gone are the days of “I had a muffin today” posts.