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The best characters are the ones with whom the reader can identify.  As readers, we love characters who mirror ourselves.  Perhaps, we love the hero with the tragic flaw because we, too, are burdened with a similar problem.  We love to hate the villain that most reminds us of ourselves.

I believe the same can be said about our favorite writers.  We admire writers who have the ability to write what we’re thinking.  We like writers who speak our language, whose ideals and ideas tickle our individual fancies, writers who share some aspect of our background.

At least, that’s the case with me.  It’s no wonder, then, that the author of one of my favorite blogs is from my hometown.  We even attended the same schools.   We are the same age.  Heck, we even grew up in the same house.  Lest you think this is the ultimate exercise in vanity, let me introduce you to my little brother, Russell Hayes.

His blog is located at http://www.cogitohayes.blogspot.com.  It is one of two blogs, besides this one, that I follow religiously.  While most of our childhood experiences were shared, we are not carbon copies.  He says things I don’t agree with quite often.  (See his post dated September 16, 2014 titled “American Whores Unite”.) But i admire his ability to speak unapologetically.  He curses, I usually don’t.  He prefers hip-hop.  I like Gospel.  We are different, even though we are the same.

Here is a sample of his work: (Warning: There are lots of curse words. If you are sensitive to f-bombs, do not read.)

From “You Wouldn’ t Like Me When I’m Angry” July 18, 2014 by Russell Hayes for Cogitohayes on blogspot

“Anyways, about 1 million curse words later, (I vaguely remember a ” he can go fuck himself”) I was finished and proud. That wasn’t the end of it.  What would be the most gangsta shit to do with such an essay???  That’s right.  I turned that shit in. I knew he was going to read that shit.  Still as crazy long as it was, I was still the first person to finish and he didn’t have anything else to do but enjoy my work.  I remember sitting down at my desk and watching him read along.  It took him a little bit because my handwriting always has been atrocious.  Then he got to the meaty part.

I remember his head tilting as if he wasn’t sure what he was reading.  He finished reading and a little voice in my head said “You done fucked up now!”

From cogitohayes.blogspot.com

To see how this incident between my brother and the substitute teacher (and local pastor) ends, check out his blog.

Write on, my brother.  Write on!

Mama Rad

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