Dark Diva

Reality t.v is the latest rage. You have everything from guidos and juiceheads to spoiled rotten housewives to tests of endurance in the wildness for big cash prizes. If it can be thought of, it can be made into a reality t.v. show. So I figured why not get into the swing of things and create my own reality show. I think I'll call it "The Stark Reality". Tell me what ya think...

Opening scene: Chaotic big city hospital trauma center. Paramedics rushing in patients just as fast as the gurneys can carry them. Lab techs, radiologists, specialists, every walk of medical life buzzing around with a very important mission: saving a human life.

Cut to the outside of a trauma area. A Fabio looking young doctor leans his head against the wall and tries to collect his wits; his scrubs are soaked with sweat. He is joined by another GQ doctor who comes barrelling around the corner at breakneck speed. The conversation goes as such:

Dr. 1 : Scott! I just got the page and came as fast as I could. I had a triple A that needed emergency surgery and I just sent her upstairs. What can I do to help ya out?

Dr. 2: (wipes the sweat off his spray tanned brow and sighs heavily.) Thanx Dex, but there's nothing more that can be done. I tried every trick in the book to save that guy but... (he shrugs his shoulders as to say "what else could we do?")

Dr.1 : No! Not that young guy...you mean....

Dr. 2: Yes, the mixture of anti anxiety drugs and methodone were lethal. He took his last big trip.

Dr.1: Dear Lord! And he had so much going for him. So the cause of death...

Dr 2: (in frustrated angry whisper) Yes! The cause of death: Terminal stupidity.

(Fade out with dramatic music)

Ok, ok, it's a rough draft but I think it could be a smash show. Let's have a reality show where we really call shit as we see it. No more hiding behind fancy terminology that makes human ignorance pardonable. Let's call a fucking spade a spade and see how she rolls.

I got this bug up my ass after another week of stories of STUPID, yes, stupid people and their tragedies due to this dumbass idea that getting stoned out of your fucking mind is cool and you're never too old to act like an immature kid and shuck standards, responsibilities and every thing else under the sun because you feel your life is so pathetic that you "NEED" an illegal substance to get you through your shitty day.

March 8, 2011: Mike Starr, age 44, former member of Alice in Chains and cast member of Celebrity Rehab, found dead in a house in Utah. Cause of death: deadly mixture of methadone and anxiety meds. Tragic? Hey, no one should take an untimely death for granted but c'mon for fuck sakes...Mike Starr saw what addiction did to his best buddy and band mate Layne Staley and this heavily contributed to his "addiction" to escape the constant memory of Layne's death and his feelings of not having been able to help save Layne in some way.

O.K, we all get that. Many of us have lost friends and colleagues to senseless tragedies and pondered the age old question: "Is there something I could have done to help them or were they just too far gone to be reached?". Now, correct me if I sound out of line here, but I "think" the next course of action would be to surrender yourself to the thought pattern of " but for the grace of God, go I" and try not to repeat the same mistake and make sure to MAYBE set an example to our remaining loved ones how not to go down the same dark path. Forgive me if I'm wrong here, but I didn't get the memo that said if life gets uncomfortable, do not pass go, do not feel the need to be held accountable for your actions and go hell bent for destruction, destroying yourself and anyone in your path, using the excuse, "I feel like shit".

March 14, 2011: Casey Royer, former drummer of the band Social Distortion, and now singer with D.I, overdoses on heroin while watching t.v. with his 12 year old son. The youngster, having still gray matter that works, unlike his pappa, ran to the neighbors to call 911 for help. Police arrest Royer at his home amid a sea of needles and garbage.

Am I upset he's hooked on heroin? No. Am I upset that he's been arrested? No. I am PISSED that he's a dad to a 12 year old boy!

The homosapien species is designed with a reproductive system. Now, even though it is every person's right to procreate, we all know that there are some people who SHOULD NOT even toy with the idea of being parents, yet, alas, some do. Now, if you're going to play the beast with two backs where a fertile female and a swimming sperm male mate, there are two options that are considered somewhat intelligent and responsible: a) if not wishing to replicate a version of yourself or your partner, you use birth control, or, b) should you decide to roll the dice and see if you're going to be the recipient of father's day/ mother's day cards for some years to come, you GROW THE FUCK UP AND REMEMBER YOU ARE BRINGING A LIFE INTO THE WORLD THAT DEPENDS ON YOU FOR LOVE, SUPPORT, GUIDANCE, SAFETY AND ACTS THAT PROVE THIS CHILD CAN SAY HE/SHE IS PROUD OF WHO SIRED THEM!! If these two situations are not an option for you...KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS! No living being comes into this world with the preconcieved notion that they are supposed to settle for a shit life, go hungry, be afraid, hurt, be lonely or die because mummy or daddy has maturity level of a dung beetle.

March 18, 2011: 21 year old Timothy Richard Lamere of Blaine Minnesota is arrested on suspicion of murder of a 19 year old Minnesota male and being responsible for the hospitalization of TEN other youngsters, ages 16 to 21, following a party where Lamere provided the drug 2 C-E to party goers.

The drug, which was legally purchased on the internet by Lamere, is just making it's presence known in the midwest and is being targeted, along with other synthetic drugs by legislators and health officials. Up until this time, 2 C-E is not classified as a controlled substance but rather marketed as a "research chemical" although authorities are now certain that 2 C-E is a cousin drug to 2 C-I and 2 C-B, which are deemed illegal controlled substances.

The deceased, 19 year old Trevor Robinson, father of a six month old child, had been Lamere's buddy since grade school. Trevor was discovered at the party house after police recieved a 911 call stating he was in medical distress after consuming the drug, and when the officers arrived, they found others there as well who were ill and suffering effects from the illicit drug. Robinson was transported to Unity Hospital where he was put on life support. He passed away later that day.

Now, I know there are going to be those who have all sorts of reasons for pooh poohing the Diva here, ranging from "addiction is a disease" to "we should be allowed to decide what we do with our bodies when it comes to drugs/booze/fill in the blanks.

And yes, I have had my days of sex, drugs and rock and roll but I also reached a stage in my life where I was no longer a teenager and really hated people saying, "whoa, D, do you remember what you did last night? you were messed up, gurl". I also hated burying friends who I loved and had overdosed or been killed in bad drug deals. The labels, "junkie", "doper", "stoner", "head case" and "crispy critter" were not terms of endearment in my dictionary. The difference between some of the people I was with and myself was I ingested but I didn't provide to others; I did not want to be held responsible for fucking up someone else's life on top of my own. During that time in my life, I also realized, after the losing a child, unless I could guarantee that I could provide the best life possible for another human being and function as I should, I did not want to be a parent...if I wasn't right, I had no business being the cause of a fucked up kid.

You know, if you take a look at the Memorial Page on Punk Globe, or even remember your own journey in life, I'm sure we can all find someone who's left our hearts because they died needlessly due to drug abuse and addiction. Rock and roll, and especially the punk scene, have a lot of fatalities tied to it, of incredibly gifted, wonderful people who made a difference through their art and now cannot give that gift of love anymore. I mean, c'mon, we're supposed to be an intelligent race of beings, but yet we get so focused on ourselves, our striving for the golden egg, the celebrity status, the money and the power that in our hedonism, we spiral out of control and then blame our environment/surroundings/job/pressures and any other shit excuse for the demise of our well being. Furthermore, whilst we wallow in our own self induced puke laced pity party, we become so self absorbed that we do not care to remember our actions are not ours alone...they trickle down and effect those closest to us, whether known or unknown. There are no "do overs", no ctrl/alt/delete that can erase an action and correct it if we don't like how the outcome arrives.

Yes, life is hard and painful at times, and disappointing and all that other Debbie Downer shit, but if you have one, just one, remaining brain cell, try to wrap it around this. Through being sad, we learn how amazing happiness is. Through weakness, we discover strength. No one said life was gonna be a cake walk but if we're going to squeeze every ounce of life out of our one journey on this planet, we gotta do it without the dope; we gotta reach out for help, if need be, and we need to lend a hand to those who need help. Otherwise, there is nothing but darkness.

I am a punk against drugs ... you can't put your arms around a memory.

"To be or not to be...fucked if I know" ~ Craig Ferguson

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