Thursday, December 18, 2014

VIDEO: Samuel L. Jackson performs 'Boy Meets World' slam poetry

Like the great Tom Hanks before him, seasoned actor, noted badass, and children's storybook reader Samuel L. Jackson was caved to Jimmy Fallon's ridiculous, whimsical requests and performed slam poetry on late night television. Because television is really just a means of creating something to exist on the Internet, later-and because the Internet is obsessed with '90s nostalgia-Mr. Jackson's epic slam poem is about the beloved sitcom Boy Meets World.

VIDEO: Samuel L. Jackson performs 'Boy Meets World' slam poetry

Like the great Tom Hanks before him, seasoned actor, noted badass, and children's storybook reader Samuel L. Jackson was caved to Jimmy Fallon's ridiculous, whimsical requests and performed slam poetry on late night television. Because television is really just a means of creating something to exist on the Internet, later—and because the Internet is obsessed with '90s nostalgia—Mr. Jackson's epic slam poem is about the beloved sitcom Boy Meets World.

Hello, World. I'm Cory Matthews. Short, average, head full of curls.

The year: 1993. We see two boys who like both brains and brawn. Cory Matthews and the other a Hunter comma Shawn.

Hair parted down the middle, jacket made of leather. Alas, one man's trailer trash is another man's treasure.

Boy meets world, boy meets girl.

"Topanga, Topanga, Topanga," beats the heart of Cory, a story as old as time. Daughter of hippies, name of a gypsy. "TOPANGA," Cory cries. For he tries to mock her, until SHOCKER!, a reluctant kiss by his locker.

Hair standing on end, no longer just friends, a love that could not be dodged by nobody. Not even a snow bunny in a ski lodge could come between them. You should have seen them, the journey they then took from sandbox to Pennbrook College.

The knowledge they gained came not from a witch or a genie, but from a teacher, a neighbor, a mentor, a savior, a man named Mr. Feeny. Or, as Eric would say, Fe-NAY. Fe-hee-hee-heeeeeee-NAAAAAAY.

The Feeny call, for he was always just steps away. Mr. Feeny did not leave them, he believed in them. Pushed them again and again to be their best. You know, to overcome the Eskimo, eating the ice cream cold when it's super cold and make it to the Super Bowl.

And then, at the end, not as teacher, but as friend, one last address. One final lesssss-on: "Do good." "Do good," he says as kids swell. "Don't you mean, 'Do well'?" Topanga stammers, hung up on grammar. He understands her, but NO! "Do good," he makes clear, as he should. For he was always there for Cory as his story unfurled, as this boy meets world, boy meets girl, boy meets white boy meets life.

As his students' fire lighted the room like children from the womb or spirits from the tomb, Feeny sighs, stares at the empty desk with gloom, takes a moment to recall and reminisce. "I love you all," he says to himself. "Class dismissed."

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