The Day Johnathan Masters Materialized Into Existence

by JD Masters

April 5, 2004. I've already written about this here: http://mastersforpresident.blogspot.com/2010/04/in-defense-of-johnny-masters.html

The Masters

In the above piece I wrote 5 years ago, I examined the evolutionary process that I went through in order to materialize my existence in a concrete and certain way.

My first real name was my Catholic confirmation name: Anthony. I went by Anthony Marx for my first few classes at Xavier University. I tried some other names... Slim, Kountry, Freud... before finally picking JD Masters (Orson Jetta was the other name I entertained).

While I like the idea of “warming up Gatewood's grave”, I'm a bit offended at how lackadaisical Mr. Terrill Newman is being with names. Names are important, and Terrill Newman said that he was going to change his name back after the election was over. He didn't need a name. Nor was he overthrowing his slave name. Terrill Newman is being “Gatewood Galbraith” just as a political stunt... nothing more, nothing less.

Contrast that with me, and well, Terrill Newman and I are opposites. He is borrowing another man's name for 7 months, for political reasons, and I materialized myself into my own independent being. I needed a name, since I never had one. He was “Kevin”, and that meant that I was supposed to be forever dubbed “Junior”. I never had a name to call my own. Just a stupid nickname, “Junior”, which means “inferior to”... that's not Kevin... that's little Kevin. Really? Little Kevin? 6'2'', 195 pounds, and can impregnate women... still little?

So far, when it comes to filing charges on me, Johnathan Masters is the name marked down. By him, and by other fascist violent oppressive assholes pricks.

I'm not doing a political stunt, or being one person for awhile, just to go back to being called “Junior”. 

I've been Johnathan Daniel Masters for 11 years, and I'll be Johnathan Daniel Masters until the day that I die. I am Johnny Masters thru and thru. In fact, I may love my name (I.e. myself) more than most folks. I know who I am to the very core of my being. I know myself better than anybody else out here.

Here's George Carlin's take on “Guys Named Junior”:

“I have no respect for any man who allows people to call him Junior. I immediately think he's a chump and a loser. To me, Junior means lower than, beneath. Putting “Junior” on a kid's name is just a way for a father to control and demean his son and prevent him from having an identity of his own. I don't like that whole cult-of-the-father thing in the first place. But apparently some guys' self-esteem is just low enough that they accept it. I have no respect for them.

Pro sports is full of these hopelessly Daddy-addicted athletes who wouldn't think of taking a shit without their fathers' approval. I especially have no respect for the ones whose fathers coached them in high school or college, or whose fathers played the same position they did. When I hear the sons of coaches and former athletes talking on television, they should to me like parent-pleasers and ass-kissers. Why don't they just grow up?”

Some folks grew up with love and respect, and they retain their "Junior". That's fine. Frankly, what I've learned through all of this, and is that we call folks whatever they want to be called. Whether it's "Black", "African-American", "White Anglo-Saxon Protestant", etc. For me, I won't put Junior at the end of my child's name. I'm sure my child will be a "lil' Johnny" to others regardless of what I name him, but my hope is that he'll be able to break on through from that, as a light, or out from the shadow. It's his life. I only want to help him. Never impede.

The only other “names” I have been called are variations of my one and only true blue name. I had the nickname “Johnny Tsunami”, or just “Tsunami”, for a spat. I have also gone by Master Pastors, as well as JD Masters. I started out as Johnny Masters, though Johnathan has a more professional and mature ring to it.

I am Johnathan Daniel Masters now, yesterday, tomorrow, and forever.

What is this man's name? 

Remember when he pardoned Nixon? You have no idea what he was called when he was a baby.

What a huge head this man's got. What is this man's name? I bet you have no idea what his maiden name was. At first it was Marion Robert Morrison. Then it was changed to Marion Mitchell Morrison: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Wayne

^^^What's the name of the man on the right? He was a former President... he used to be called Blythe.

There's actually a scene in "Marilyn" with Ashley Judd that I identify to... where she runs over her orphan self, and goes from Norma Jean Mortensen to Marilyn Monroe.

This guy is related to some pretty popular folks:

His father and brother have the same last name "Sheen", and yet, he's the one who kept his Puerto Rican name:

Martin Sheen's stage name is Martin Sheen. Legally, Martin Sheen's name is Ramón Antonio Gerardo Estévez.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_Sheen

How about this Indian Outlaw? He's not a Smith, like his mama told him as a kid. 

Jesse "The Body" Ventura:

Jesse Jackson:

Jennifer Aniston:

Tina Turner:

What does the name Calvis Broadus mean to you? 


You don't know who “Maurice Micklewhite,” “Olivia Jane Cockburn” or “Diane Hall” is... or Demetria Guynes, Clayton Holmes Grissom, Doris Mary Ann Kappelhoff, Margaret Mary Emily Anne Hyra, Allen Konigsberg, and Louis Szekely are...


But you do know who Katy Perry, Meg Ryan, Demi Moore, Louis CK, Michael Keaton, Dusty Springfield, Stevie Wonder, Shania Twain, Bruno Mars, Courtney Love, Truman Capote, Audrey Hepburn, Carmen Electra, Whoopi Goldberg, Larry King, Portia de Rossi, Tina Fey, Spike Lee, Natalie Portman, Harry Houdini, Fergie, Nicole Richie, Mariah Carey, Cat Stevens, Puff Daddy/P. Diddy, Chad Ochocinco, Snoop Dogg/Snoop Lion, Lady Gaga, Miley Cyrus, Nicki Minaj, Reese Witherspoon, Caligula, Catherine the Great, Chief Sitting Bull, Christopher Columbus, Ferdinand Magellan, Pol Pot, Rasputin, Mother Teresa (maiden name: Agnes Gonxha Bojaxhiu), Confucius, Geronimo, Vin Diesel, Martin Luther King, Jr., Sojourner Truth, Wild Bill Hickok, Chiang Kai-shek, Ho Chi Minh, Ulysses S. Grant, Lenin, Nelson Mandela (Rolihlahla Mandela), Josef Stalin, and Leon Trotsky is. 

Albert Brooks' maiden name was Albert Einstein. 

Hell... even Gatewood's first name was Louis... who in the fuck is Louis Galbraith? 

Martin Luther King Jr's first first name was Michael. Could you imagine? Michael Luther King Jr.?!? OMG!

Who in the fuck is Michael Luther King Jr.? Uh... you mean Martin? Duh! What an idiot!

Louis Szekely basically doesn't think you'd ever pronounce his last name right, so like adults do for children, he's abbreviated who he is to make it easier on us. Now, he goes by Louis C.K. 

I remember making a George Carlin joke to one of my haters. The joke is... “you can't fight city hall, but you can damn sure blow it up!” My hater wanted to be such a dick to me about it... “How appalling! How dreadful! Why would say something like that!?!” But all that told me is that, if George Carlin grew up around these haters, they would have destroyed him... until he left so he could be himself, or until he was smashed into oblivion.

I'm proud of my name. Like Muhammad Ali, when I finally got my own name, I really felt like I had something to call my own. Like Malcolm X, I threw off my slave name, and finally, came into being as myself. In fact, how incredibly sadistic it is for one to terrorize a person for nearly 33 years, and then expect them to carry on that legacy.

Malcolm X is one of the best “fathers” I've ever had. The one I was forced under told me to take any and all abuse that falls my way. Indeed, whenever confronted with somebody wanting to hurt me, instead of being tough, I went into jokester comedian mode, and hoped I could defuse the situation that way. Malcolm X told me something different. Malcolm said, “If a man lays his hands on you, you make sure he never lays his hands on anybody ever again. You send him to the cemetery.” The sperm donor hit me over 5,000 times, without 1 word of condemnation, or accountability. But the one day I defended myself, when I was 27 years old, back in their house, after having 50 jobs, and 20 different addresses, and not getting established anywhere, Gallatin County's police and prosecutors and Judges totally fucked me over. For them, it didn't matter who threw the first punch. It didn't matter that one who had attacked me over 5,000 times attacked me again. It didn't matter that he attempted to murder me with a 7-iron by swinging it at my head 3 times. It didn't matter that the sperm donor never had a real meaningful conversation with me, and it didn't matter that I wasn't trying to confront him, but instead, wanted a heart-to-heart conversation...

And the one he married told me, “Pride will make a poor man out of you.” So taken together, the lesson was very clear: you'll always get humiliated and mocked and violently beaten, and that's just how things are. Accept it, and deal with it.

The Honorable Ann Ruttle, a Kenton County Judge, on April 5, 2004, granted me my request to legally change my name. The circumstances were perfect. It only took about 5 or 10 minutes to convince her. I was staying in an abandoned building in Bellevue (across from Pasquales). I had heard through the grapevine that the old man was in jail over domestic violence charges. So I asked the Honorable Ann Ruttle, “If I had been named Adolf Hitler Jr., would I have to carry his legacy onwards?” She went to the backroom to see if he was really in jail. After verifying it, she granted me my request. It was easy. It cost me $51, and by having an asshole of a biological father, a “sperm donor”, that made it super easy.

During my formative years, my old man's favorite past time was either to be violent with me, or to mock me, ruthlessly, harshly, to the laughs of my entire “family”. While there may have been a few decent moments here and there, when I think about the first 17 years of my life, I only think of me being in a horrible daze, an absolute nightmare. It's like I remember me being there, but wasn't. The residual effects of being raised this way was enormous too. I played basketball, academic team, baseball, went to work... I did anything and everything in order to not go back home. But playing basketball didn't win me many friends. I remember being bullied, constantly, and having nobody to go to. I just wanted folks to like me, but if one doesn't show power for themselves, then it's hard for others to do so too.

Bullying your own children, especially through violence, doesn't make your children “strong”. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It made me weak. It made me a bitch. Somebody who didn't stand up for himself, or anybody he loved. A person who just blindly did what anybody told him to do... not for respect, but for love. Maybe if I just do as they tell me... then they'll love me. But psychopathic oppressors never work like that. For them, their bullying coercive ways always vindicates their behavior, and they'll always do it.

“Hell... when I threatened to punch him in the face, he did what I told him to do... I'm so smart!”

Jean-Jacques Rousseau is an undiscovered genius in America. His advice, to make strong children, isn't by hounding them, and exploiting and manipulating them... but it's to let them be themselves. For a human child's first years, Rousseau advises to let one's own children do as they like, so they know who they are, what they want in life; to discover their likes and dislikes, their ambitions, and dreams. Rousseau just had one rule for them: don't do any harm to others.

That's not even a rule that child-beating adults even listen to. Not only do they do harm to others, but they harm their own flesh and blood, their own namesakes, their own prodigies.

I wished American society has agreed that 1) Murder; 2) Rape; 3) Stealing, and; 4) Violence upon others is wrong. But we haven't got that far yet.

The way I was raised made me “make jokes” to make folks laugh, so I could get them to like me, but I was using the same language that I had grown up with: making fun of others. I never felt like I “made fun” of folks for insecurities they had, but apparently, I had. For the girls/young women I liked, I jokingly called them “fat”. One thugged out dude thought I was cool when I said that, because he thought I meant PHAT, which... I did.

But folks can be insecure about anything. I knew a woman who called the Captain of the Basketball team “ugly” wherever he walked. She wasn't saying it because she thought him as ugly. On the contrary. But I wonder if, maybe, deep down inside, he did feel ugly... if so, then that insult would have fucked with him. Instead of telling somebody who I believe to be beautiful “ugly” or “fat”, now, I just say, “you're beautiful”, and just leave it at that. I hate “mean-teasing”, though whenever somebody writes “I hate you” on somebody else's facebook page, it's usually taken to mean the opposite, but said in a fun, albeit backwards, way.

In class, being oppressed by 1 dictator, and not being able to make meaningful relationships with my peers, I had to do something.

I was also smart. I made straight A's. While I was able to do the work with no problem, me being so obedient to the powers that be, in hindsight, if I was to look at myself then as the man I am today, I'm not so sure I'd respect myself. While I was obedient to the powers that be, I'd try other methods to being “cool”. That's where the jokes came in. I could make folks laugh, and I thought I was making friends. But alas... that's not what happened.

Indeed, folks told my mother that I was “too good”.

I also like my name because I drew a line of demarcation. Those who couldn't respect my name couldn't do it because they didn't respect me. If you can't respect my name, then you can't respect my hopes, dreams, opinions, or my body. A person's name is attached to their reputation, as well as being how they are legally represented. My truck is in my name. Any contracts I sign is in my name. My children will bare my name.

Your name is your reputation, and your reputation is how others in society see you, so one should defend their name with their life.

Somebody Muhammad Ali was fighting wasn't going to respect his name, until he kicked his ass, shouting at him... “What's my name now?!?”

Maybe I should get it tattooed on my forehead.

Evelyn Vaske and Barbara Williams were huge dicks about my name. Barbara beat the fuck outta me when I was like 6 years old for no reason, as soon as my parents dropped me off at her house, and I can't remember hardly any memories of Eve. These people do not know me, nor do they care about me. By being dicks to me, all they were saying to me, is that they are my mortal enemies, until the day that I die. They weren't nice people beforehand, and they certainly aren't now.

Besides, according to the Women's Crisis Center, name-calling is abusive... so big surprise abusive sadistic Nazi assholes aren't my friends. Yeah... big surprise. Not.

Eve said she wished something would have happened to Bill Clinton when he came to speak to Kentucky citizens in Carroll County while he was President. Eve said, “He should have been shot!” Barbara, also a cold, mean, and bitter Republican, hasn't displayed a single moment of tenderness or love in her entire existence. I'm supposed to believe these assholes have my best interests in mind? Yeah right... fuck them. If somebody doesn't like me, they can go fuck themselves. What good is somebody who doesn't like you... especially assholes who never knew you to begin with?

Also, according to the Supreme Court Chaplinsky decision, name-calling is enough justification for a police officer to beat the crap out of Chaplinsky. Chaplinsky called the police officer a “damned racketeer” and a “damned fascist”.

Name-calling is abusive. It's the easiest way to start a fight. Just call somebody a bitch. “Dems fighting words there boy.” Name-calling doesn't seek to change anybody's mind with reason or logic, but by attacking one's character, and beating them down into submission, with exhaustion, or cruelty.

But there is a free speech element to all of this too. In a freedom loving society, we have to tolerate hate speech, but once hate turns into behavior, with attacks or violence, then it's game on. That's my opinion. But if somebody called my woman a bitch, I'd knock them the fuck out right then and there with no questions asked. So, I guess I oscillate between those two differing views as being the right way.

And some folks can be damned fascist racketeering assholes. I bet that's why the police officer beat up Chaplinsky. Chaplinsky told that damned fascist precisely what he was.

When I called Eve a name she didn't like, she said she was “offended” without acknowledging the tiniest bit of irony, or hypocrisy. For her, one must respect the dirt she walks on, but for others, she's allowed to be as big of a shitty asshole to them as she wanted to be.

Nah... those assholes don't give a fuck about me. Never have and never will. They'd have to find a heart first, but something tells me they lost their humanity a long time, way before I was ever born.

Also, it's interesting to note that both Evelyn (Gripshover) and Barbara (Katz) do not have their own last names. They have their husbands, after having their father's name. In a way, I have thought about this so much, I see that women actually never get their own names. I have wrote my last name hyphenated to highlight my mother's side of the family with “Masters-Gripshover”. Many Mexicans do this same thing. My old man didn't have any family that visited us or came around us that had his last name. He was raised by his stepfather and mother. But my mother's side of the family was huge, and therefore, because of my situation, I'm able to highlight their namesake.

When looking at my family tree, I notice that many women, because they never get their own last name, get lost in the times of history. My great-grandmother's name, I think, is “Mary Hellman”, but I don't know who her parents are, and when she married, she dropped the Hellman name, and became a Gripshover, and had more Gripshovers. So when one traces their family roots backwards, it's easier to trace the Gripshover name back to Germany for several generations, but Mary's father's name, Hellman, is only there in my family tree in total isolation.

So... my journey through this life has been a Richard Wright's Black Boy existence, but it's made me stronger, and more aware. I'm more thoughtful than most, and I'm more secure with myself than most. And considering I never did anything to Eve, Barbara, or any other hater out here, that's probably what pisses them off the most. Oh how the soulless loathe the soulful.

The Romans hated Jesus, and white supremacists hated MLK.

Why? Because they said they were men too? Hmmm...

Paulo Freire changed my entire operating philosophy by painting the world up in the context of Oppressors vs. Oppressed. Those who break those chains, who can enjoy other people's company without feeling the need to control, manipulate, or put their will over them... is in a dream relationship.

Here's to all the Equalists... by whichever way they found the truth, here's to you all!

Equality!!!

Here's an Eminem song that speaks to me: “I am whatever you say I am” 

If I don't get basic human respect from them today, I do not care for anybody I ever knew before I became an adult. Most of Gallatin County are racist child-beaters anyways. Or defenders of racism, and child abuse. It's no surprise that Marco Chapman was produced by that county.

When I was Valedictorian in 2000, I had dramatically been stopped from saying the speech I really wanted to say by the Principal. Then, 10 years later, those who organized the reunion censored me as well. Those fascist assholes didn't teach us how to treat each other better. For them, they get all of the power, and fuck everybody else. I prefer relationships where there's not an intense power struggle between the parties. One where the other person just acknowledges your humanity, and enjoys your company, without wanting to control your behavior, or you wanting to control theirs.

#IamAnEqualist.

Here's my platform for my Lieutenant Governor's campaign: http://young4ky.blogspot.com/2015/03/my-10-point-progressive-democrat.html