The BMC Social Project - An Ongoing Study

Many of you have asked “sure, BMC makes the interweb a better place but what does it do for my community in the real world?” It’s a valid question. And one we don’t take lightly. I’d like to personally take a moment to thank Bob from Pequot Lakes for emailing us weekly for information on the topic. It’s that kind of can do attitude that makes Bob a Minnesota Man and not a Minnesota Mannot. You rock out with your cock out sir. No, no, it’s true. I only speak truth. I was going to write about how my farts are downright feisty today but you've motivated me to new heights, and the world will be better for it. But just so we're clear, my farts are definitely worthy of a column today. They have a zestiness that's just so so...newsworthy I guess. I'll leave it at this; my farts are normally like tortilla chips. Not really great or anything, but a daily staple. But today's farts, well they're like the fancy bags with a catchy name like "fiesta style" or whatever and they have the standard yellowish chips but also the blue corn or red chips thrown in too. That's the best way to describe them. If there's a party in my pants then don't worry about bringing the appetizers, I've got it covered.


But to Bob’s point, and quickly now for the news I have to share with you fine folks is of great import. How exactly does BMC improve the world at large? Well for one thing we’ve managed to keep Ellen off the streets. Thereby saving her from a life of petty crime and $5 handjobs and also saving several men from a really fucking terrible handjob. Just ask Mule, he still can’t look at a bottle of Aloe Vera without mumbling “if only you’d been there with me”. It’s a terrible thing. Just terrible. The handjobs, not the whole Mule in pain thing. That’s pretty standard around here actually.

So again, to Bob’s point – be patient Bob, we’ll get there – what does BMC do to improve the community? Several years ago Mule and I (and assorted financial backers and semi-interested motorists) sat down for a meeting. We discussed our 5 Keys to a successful life. I won’t bore you with the details of them all (for some of them have yet to pass) but I will fill you in on Key #2.

Key #2 – In order to fully understand and appreciate our world through all perspectives we sent forth a youngster, 13, into the black community. He has been an embedded reporter within this community for several years now. In fact, he’s been so deep undercover that he probably no longer realizes that he was born a white child in rural Wisconsin. He would probably punch me right now in the face if he were sitting with me. But he’s not here so we’re good to go.

This young man has adapted very well to his community and culture. He’s learned new languages (espanol punta!), learned to play the guitar (and possibly other instruments – I’ve only seen the one show), and even procreated. For most he just seems like a normal black man. He's a big dude, and not Fat Albert big, I mean big like a fucking linebacker. A loquacious motherfucker when he wants to be. A snappy dresser. (I’ve seen him pull off a shirt that would only look appropriate on a pirate ship or in something written by Jane Austen.) And, on a side note, this last paragraph is REALLY not helping me in fending off his theory that I want to be Jack and he can be the chocolate beanstalk. That he wants to be MC Hammer and I want to be a pair of shiny gold Hammer pants. Uh oh, uh oh here comes the hammer...


So what makes you think that this 13 year old white kid believes he is a black man? Let’s run down the list shall we?

- He loves and discusses comic books openly in public.
- He plays guitar instead of dropping beats. Fans of the Chappelle show will see how true this is.
- He likes calling himself “Chocolate Thunder”.
- He hates it when I call myself “White Lightning” and suggest forming a crimefighting duo.
- He thinks vengeance should involve a lightsaber.
- When he gets angry he’s known to yell “Hulk Smash!”.
- If given the chance he will throw out lines from Conan the Barbarian.
- He refuses to call Mule and I "white devils" despite our obvious whiteness and devilishness.

I realize that I said that we sent him out several years ago at age 13 and then mentioned that he still is in fact 13 today. This is true. I don’t know how to explain it but the data is undeniable. I mean, it’s possible that he’s just really, really fucking immature I guess... The stats are hard to break down when it comes to that sort of thing. But I'm fairly confident in my findings.

So Mule and I (and various financial backers and confused motorists) have been collecting data on what life is like living in NordEast as a black man. And we can now share that information with you. Because our embedded reporter has finally established a satellite linkup and has contacted us. And man does he have some shit to say...