....And The 2012 Pulitzer-Prize for Fiction...Goes To......

The Colored Man is no writer.  I just pretend to be one.  I will never win any prizes.  It seems that I am not capable of creating chapter after chapter of words, that when put together create a cohesive body of written entertainment.  But who knows, they say that everyone has a great novel in them, so maybe I do as well.

In order to be a great writer, one must have a vivid imagination, and be able to convince people that your fictional account is actually something that they should read and imagine that it just could possibly be a true story.  The characters that the authors create are interesting, intriguing, and bring a new viewpoint to the reader.  The written word  creates a visual for the reader and carries the reader's imagination away from their everyday lives.  The story can be completely created in the writers mind, or as E. L. Doctorow styles his writing, created based upon fiction and non-fiction; a combination of actual people, places, and events, stirred together with imaginary occurrences.

There have been some great writers of fiction throughout history, names such as, Morrison, Baldwin, Dumas, Wilde, Wharton and a host of others easily come to mind.  The latest to join the pantheon of great fiction writers is George Zimmerman, who has created a fantastical tale of mythic proportion, and international notoriety.

Mr. Zimmerman comes to the world of fiction by way of "murder most foul" to coin a phrase penned by Agatha Christie.  As the main character in his own tale of flasehoods, Mr. Zimmerman has penned an unbelievable saga that started on a dark, rainy Florida evening.  His story pits him against a young, black teenager, named Trayvon Martin.  Mr. Zimmerman was armed with a gun, while performing his duties as a Barney Fife-esque neighborhood watch commando. Mr. Martin, was armed with a bag of Skittles, and an Arizona ice-tea.  The evening ends with Mr. Martin shot in the chest and dead, with Mr. Zimmerman claiming self-defense.

As with any great piece of fiction, all of the action happens between the first and last pages, and this story is no different, except that the main character and his words and actions don't create a cohesive story.  Alot has been deliberately left out of the story, so as to confuse the reader and give one a false sense of great honesty.

Mr. Zimmerman would want us to believe that an unarmed teenager who weighed about 150lbs, was able to knock his muscular, slightly pumped-up body to the ground, pin him down, punch him repeatedly in the face, and bash his head against a cement sidewalk.  Hours later when Mr. Zimmerman exits the polie car quite easily, the cameras show not a trace of any type of trauma to his face or his head.  As a matter of fact, his clothes don't even appear to be disheveled in the least bit.  He's talking and acting quite confident after murdering someone' child.

Dear readers, please do not take the Colored Man's word....I want each of you to find someone who will aggressively and viciously throw you to the ground, punch you in the face, and bash your head onto the sidewalk.  I guarantee you that you will have blood everywhere.  In fact, if you don't have any bruises or a possible headache, or black eyes, or blood on your clothes, then send me a picture and I will send you a grand prize of nothing. Nothing, because you would be telling a damn lie, and I am not rewarding liars.

Most characters have a sidekick.  D'Artagnan had Aramis and Pathos.  Scarlett had Mammy. Silas Marner had Eppie.  George Zimmerman had the Sanford Police Department.  Sidekicks are the ones who aide and abet the main character.  Sometimes they are the protagonists, while other times they provide insight into the story.  Now the Sanford Police Department is very important to Mr. Zimmerman's story in that they seemed to have automatically believed his story from start to finish.  We subsequently find out after reading a few more chapters, that Mr. Martin's body was tested for drugs and alcohol, while Mr. Zimmerman was allowed to return home without so much as a urine test.

All great writers do research before they write.  Even the lowly Colored Man does research before he quotes information in his blog.  I do it because I want to make sure that what I am asking you to read is factual, and research based.  Mr. Zimmerman did no research, and it is evident because his fairy-tale is slowly unraveling.  Since he was negligent in covering his lies, he didn't know that the voices on the tape could be analyzed.  Remember he told us to believe that it was him yelling for help in the 911 call.  Well guess what, folks?  Independent voice-analysts have confirmed with over 90% accuracy that the voice screaming for help is not George Zimmerman.  Also remember, that according to his story, there were only two people at the altercation, himself and Trayvon.  So, whose voice is it yelling for help?  The analysts have said that at the present time they cannot say that it was Trayvon, only because they do not have a sample of his voice.  But the Colored Man would bet money that his mother still has his cellphone with his voice saying hello, leave a message, and it will be compared to the voice on the tape.  It seems that perhaps that chapter of this story will need the editor's red pen!!

Mr. Martin has given us an unfinished novel, so he has asked others to finish it for him, and they seem to be on the same path of dishonesty that he is on.  His brother can't explain the blatantly racist sotto voce "f....ing coon" statement heard on the 911 tape, except to say that perhaps the tape was doctored by the media.  His father relates, "oh no, George can't be racist, he was raised in a multi-cultural house, and he's white Hispanic".  Notice how the Hispanic part is qualified as being white, rather than just Hispanic?  Interesting.  The right-wing media has taken up his cause with their usual veiled racism, even though this story is so much bigger than race.  Others have attempted to blame the victim, "he shouldn't have been wearing a hoodie."

If there are any high-points to this story, they would be that it has opened up dialogue on so many issues that affect America; gun control, laws enacted  based upon the "stand your ground doctrine", racial profiling, law-enforcement collusion and ineptitude, and citizen activism.

What ever happens with Mr. Zimmerman, one thing we can all count on is that he will not win the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.  But the Colored Man believes that he will win an award, and that award will be....(drum roll, please) .................

Florida's Best White-Hispanic Prison Bitch for 2012 and many years to follow.

Dear Mom and Dad........Love, Trayvon

Dear Mom and Dad,
I am no longer with you, and I miss you all so much.  I know you know what happened to me...I was murdered by someone who mistook me for a thug.  He didn't realize that you all had raised me to be an honest young man, who loved his family and God.  He couldn't have known that I was an A and B student in school.  That I had dreams and goals.  He didn't know me, so he had no idea that I loved football, baseball, basketball, horseback riding, math, and science.  I loved hanging out with my family and friends, listening to music and talking for hours on the phone with my girlfriend.

I was walking back from the store and was talking on the phone.  I had a feeling that this man was following me, so I slowed down a little bit, and he slowed down.  I got a little scared, but I didn't want to run because I thought that running would only make him follow me more.  So, I started walking faster, and he eventually caught up with me.  I turned around, and asked him why was he following me.  He asked me what was I doing here?  I said that I am going home, and then he reached for me and grabbed me.  I swing away from him, and started yelling for help, hoping and praying that someone would hear me, and come out and get me away from this crazy man.  He pulled out a gun, and shot me.  No one came to my aid.

When the bullet hit me, it felt like a truck had hit me while going about 100 miles per hour.  I could feel my chest exploding, and felt my blood oozing.  I tried to breathe, but I just couldn't seem to catch my breath.  Eventually nothing came out...and my eyes rolled back into my head, and I remember falling.  But I didn't hit the hard ground.

Mommy and Dad, there were angels all around me in beautiful, pure white robes.  They slowly lifted me and I began to feel as if my inner core, my soul was rising up with them.  They were singing this beautiful song that could have only come from some celestial place.  Some place of perfect peace.  All my pain and hurt disappeared.  I am in Heaven now. 

Mom, I see you every night crying when you lay down to go to sleep.  I see you too, Dad.  Don't cry for me, I am doing fine.  Heaven is a wonderful place, and everyday is a day of joy and happiness.  I know that you and everybody misses me, but I will see you all one day.  I am counting on it.  I know that you all wanted to see me graduate from high school and college, and get married.  I wanted that too.  I wanted to go to the prom this year.  I wanted to play on the football team at school.  I wanted so much, but God wanted me too.

I do have some requests of you all and everyone who reads this letter that I am writing to you.  Please, please, please do not let what happened to me, happen to any other 17 year-old African-American male.  In fact, don't let this happen to anyone.  Create a movement that will make people not judge us by the color of our skin.  Create a movement that will cause our nation to look at how they treat people.  Create a love movement.  Create a justice movement.  Create something that makes people remember me forever and a day.  My life may have been short, but make it stand for something. 

I love you Mom and Dad, and thank you for everything.  Remember my smile, remember my laugh, remember me as your loving son.  I may be gone, but my spirit is with you.

Love,

Trayvon