Richard Johnathan
This book is the semi-biography of a young man. It’s told in the first person from the time he was still a 1 year old child until he was 16. Some of it is delightful, while other parts are perverse. Yet, this is not a story with a fairy tale feel. It’s about a boy who suffered as a child with himself, or actually, with his own distraught mind. You will also see many unanswered questions in this story about his experiences and viewpoints.
After the story are seven reviews of films that relate with the novel you read. Little did he know as life went on, a lot of his troubles and beauties were present in many films the boy watched as a little kid. Hopefully, friends, we will all have something to think about regarding this boy, as he still lives today.
Richard Johnathan has been a media researcher since 7 years old. Growing up in Connecticut, he has studied film, music, and the mass media structure. His main goal to help those is society is expressing and encouraging positive, but entertaining media. Author of the books From Roberta Flack To Boy George: Last Fantastic Albums Ever Made and Films Of Our Life: Some A’s, But Mostly B’s under the pen name J.J. Briggs, Richard Johnathan is also a teacher at the middle and high school levels, hoping to make young America aware of the media and its positive aspects as well as negative.
During mid-term exams, when I was trying to study, images came into my mind that I was going to get AIDS by sitting on the toilet in my house. I knew that was not possible, as I knew all the facts of AIDS for years from doing research, but this thought would not leave my mind. I was banging my head with my hands. My grandfather saw this, and he told me to calm down. I guess he was used to this since something was definitely wrong with his daughter. I’m sure he had to deal with that. I still focused on the work the best I can. This was torture, plain torture. My mind played games on me. Of course, someone who didn’t have the problem would say that I was making my mind play games on myself. But that wasn’t the case. I was helpless at this. When gym came around and I had to run the 1 mile track, there was a big problem. As I ran for that rotting Irish bastard of a teacher, I would hear the word lethal injection in my mind. I would see a needle going in a leg. The closer I came to the end of the run, the more the agony came to me. Lethal injection flew in my head, and the needle was going into a hairy leg. I assumed it was mine when I was 32 years old. I could not even enjoy music anymore. Before I put a CD or video in the player, I had to wash my hands. Not regular soap either. I had to use Palmolive soap detergent, and dry my hands with paper towels. I could not use regular soap or towels because other people already touched them. Even when I did this, I had to be very gentle with the CD. Eventually, I was so obsessed of being perfect with it, I refused to listen to music or watch movies all together. I even told my mother I had to go to the clinic she went to, which was a psychiatric clinic. She’s been going there for years.
