Friday, December 21, 2007

Christmas Time Travel

Nat King Cole

Well the holidays are upon us and in the soft distance of the roasting fire I can hear that voice of an angel dipped in chocolate crooning away. No Christmas collection could be complete without the sound of Nat King Cole. I dont know that I have ever eaten a chestnut, much less one roasted on a fire; but I am guessing its good. Its just soooo easy to get to busy with the activity of what Christmas has become and lose sight of what it is. Christmas is an expression of a great love between a creator and his creation. It is a symbol of the act of giving; centainly not because of deserving; but out of the love / need to give. Its a time to easily get caught up in who did what last and whose fault was that or I, I, I; but thats not what its all about...besides 70x7 is just the beginning [if you dont know what 70x7 means, then u must not be doing click here; and yes, honestly 5x1 is a bit much for me, but I keep trying after I fail.]

Warm Fireplace Seat

Anyway, theres something very nice about sitting in front of a roasting fire that crackles as you snuggle up with yours and sip warm apple cider as the light dances with the shadows across your faces....its the most wonderful time of the year. I am looking forward to all of that and to catching some unsuspecting chap or chappette to bless. Its funny how it all works out and it does all work out. Hopefully we will also get to visit some old people in nursing homes. If everyday was Christmas; what a wonderful world.......

Louis Armstrong playing

isnt it time travel! Songs can take us anywhere at anytime any where in time....except the future....


Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Hot Deals, Christmas for Less!, Inc.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

The Mist: Revaporized

Starring: Thomas Jane, Laurie Holden, Frances Sternhagen, Nathan Gamble, Jeffrey DeMunn,
Marcia Gay Harden, William Sadler, Andre Braugher

The plot: It starts with a storm and a geek, blink and you’ll miss it, nod to fans of Stephen King’s “Dark Tower” novels. David Drayton (Thomas Jane) and his family retreat to their basement to ride out the bad weather. When they emerge in the morning a tree has crashed through their front window, and the power is out. David and his young son go into town for supplies, leaving his wife behind. It’s at the grocery store where David first realizes something is horribly wrong. A man, bloodied and panicked, races into the store screaming “there’s something in the mist!” Just as David and the other customers look out the window to see an unnatural mist rolling towards the store, the city’s air raid sirens sound.

More terrifying than the horrifying creatures lurking outside the store are the two-legged beings lurking within it. The Mist is more than just some monster movie, instead it’s a careful examination of human nature. Darabont’s adapted script develops each character carefully, and the film’s real thrills come from following his group of terrified survivors as they fight, fear, and quite simply fall apart in different ways as hope drains away. Some turn to God and fatalism, others turn to logic, still others choose denial and pay for their refusal to face facts. David Drayton however, simply refuses to give up.

The best part of it all is this slow revelation into a much larger and grotesque favorite part; the hidden human: More terrifying than the horrifying creatures lurking outside the store are the two-legged beings lurking within it. The Mist is more than just some monster movie, instead it’s a careful examination of human nature.

From the beginning of the strange mist rolling over everything and making sight near impossible; like condensation on a window, The Mist begins to wipe the facade of our civilized pseudo moralities so we can being to recognize the vision behind the frosted glass. The first victim in the movie is more or less a male ego sacrifice used as a tool to prove/disprove the "you're no better than us" ideology between city folks and country people. Needlesstosay, the main character is right as the young victim is helplessly slaughtered and dragged beneath a garage door as all the trash-talking big bad country boys stand trembling; reeling from the new terror up close and personal. Only the main character, David even tries to help the boy, warning him long before he is in the position of no return. Typical bully mentality always uses someone else to carry out its dirty work; only to blame the victim in the end for being stupid enough to do what they were told by the bully. The poor people and the rich have always been separated by a chasm of distrust as vast as the number of zeroes and commas in their account balances.

But what of this bizarre creature that we only see some furcious tentacles and hear an occassional growl from behind the loading dock door? Could these tentacles be every bit as deadly as sweet temptation itself; swooning us through familarity, newness and cajouling us closer to its depths. A serpant has a strike distance; if you are beyond that, you may be safe for a while....but somehow we are tantilized closer and closer like moths to the flame. Some say its in our genes; others say its in our heads and the least say its between our legs. Temptation rarely comes without a prepared path; "pre" being little steps "pared" off the larger or more narrow path. Perhaps the tentacles are our minds or our disobediences or the DNA of humanity....

This movie is truly powerful in its examination and depiction of real human interactionary destruction when everything formerly secure isn't...for instance 9/11. When it happens, we easily react in several manners. We fall apart in different ways as hope drains away. Some turn to God and fatalism, others turn to logic, still others choose denial and pay for their refusal to face facts. As in the case of God; I tend to think of it as that person who calls you out of the blue only when they want something or has never called until they wanted something. Either way, people in general; well "I" am less compelled to be inclined — we have no relationship, no preexisting time shared together, no jelling of the emotions or heart, an absence of presence. Isnt it ironic or moronic to end up in that situation and expect sympathy or even an answer. Suddenly someone who has never "hung out" with God is begging him like a school girl. Clearly God's much better than I and we. I am willing to easily admit that. Ironicly, there is even a lawyer in this movie ... and you couldnt tell him the sky was blue if he was staring at it. He just refused to believe. Even worse, his own internal brokeness made him separate himself as though it was all a race issue. [the monsters didnt care whether it was dark meat or pork]. Some of the people just shut down; deciding to just cash out themselves than suffer the waiting. I wont give away the end; but it is the sure mark of great storytelling. Those who refuse to give up...sometimes learning is giving up. Can't you think of a time when you would have been better of to have admitted your mistake and just went on. Politicians have gotten good at it, even if country music stars havent yet.

The only thing certain to stay the same is the same of change. Needless to say, this movie is full of stuff far meatier than monsters.Monsters are always invisible to themselves in the mirror. There are no trees in the forest. Our tongues could set ten thousand forests ablaze with a mere syllable. Does the planet Earth consider us its monsters?


Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Heroes: The Unfolding

I watched Heroes last night. First off: I don't read up on all the blogs and behind the scenes or even participate in the creating a new hero through Sprint gimmick. --not to say that its good or bad; just not me. The show was good. I made the mistake of not watching the clock so that when the cliffhanger came; there I was, gasping for air barely hanging by a toenail from an infinite chasm of wow. When the show ended, I stopped thinking about it and went on to my next, Journeyman. Sometimes I think it is slightly better than Heroes. I said all that to say this: perhaps it is the villians that are the heroes. Perhaps it is the villians that empower us to be or become heroes. Without the villians, would there be any heroes?

I must confess; amist the mirade of heroes in Heroes, I find that Sylar contines to do it for me. What is it about a great villian! The beauty of a true villian is that nothing stands in his way. The guardrails are gone. I could only wonder if the "heroes" had no rules; could they still be heroes? Is there not a way to have that same single-minded passion good villians posess? Why do the heroes always get tangled up in stupid romances and emotional spider webs that only make them weaker.

I am reminded of the movie, City of Angels with Nicholas Cage. He is an angel with various power and prominience and immortality and he trades all that in for humanity. (sheesh) Take Spiderman one when Spidey tells the chick "no, he's Spiderman!" Unfortunately, Hollywood needs to junk up a good hero until his/her teeth are rotting from goodness.

Anyway, back to the beauty of Sylar. Beneath his dark orbs you can feel the seething fury to posess all the power; whatever it takes to get it from everyone else, the joy he derives from watching their helpless bodies of victims squirm as he "looks to see how it works." Its not hard to see how he crafily uses emotions and implication to master the weak minded. Ahhhh. Don't look now; he's got em right where he wants em. This is the part where they usually start screaming. I occassionally wonder how they got rid of his power when I am not thinking "but they didnt; they're just trying to make him think that by fooling his mind." The magic for it all to me is enjoying the journey.

I dont need to know how or what or why what's next--- I'll be watching and I'll savor it then. Have you even known people who never enjoy a movie because they're so frustrated trying to figure out the end at the beginning? Not I. Sure I typically can see it coming; but I want to crawl around in the dark afraid first and just perhaps the villian will mistake me for being unaware and get his own surprise.


Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Whats keeping your gift wrapped?

gift wrapped in red with bow

The ribbons of our thoughts keep tidy the gifts of our lives.

For those of you old enuf to remember playing records, otherwise known as vinyl, on the record player or currently CDs on your CD player long before mp3s, you will remember this. Isnt it pleasant to be listening to your favorite tunes, drifting like the scent of fresh warm buttered pancakes being chased by frying bacon in the morning air, to some place other than now.

Isnt it terrible when the annoying scratch or skip occurs to crash you back to reality. I find it particularly similar to having realities we "assume" are "true" being suddenly shattered. What do I mean? Some of you can remember when Kennedy was shot and what you were doing when you heard the news. Some of you can remember 9-11, where you were and what you were doing when it happened. The point is this: "We might easily assume that some things go on forever or thats just the way things are" until suddenly we get a heartstopping wake up call. Something drastic happens and suddenly nothing is what it was. I am talking foundational as opposed to things tied to the first kiss. What if suddenly everything you never thought could happen did; would you resemble the poor people listening to War of the Worlds by radio for the first time; and run for the nearest highest window? People tend to respond to those kinds of shocks that way. Why do they make airline stewardesses say, "in the event of an emergency, please remain calm...." That's why its an emergency — calm is out the window; we talkin' survival now!

Its not odd that our normal is rooted in the familiar consistency. No, no crisis here. Actually I was looking for some clip art and came across a beautiful gold ribbon and bow around a Christmas present and it struck me how similar it is to our fragile help in place by "common assumption" and unnoticed faith in things taken mostly for granted. On the coming of Thanksgiving, I can only search for new ways to become even more thankful that at least my illusions have not been ripped away and my face shoved into the cold unforgiving concrete of reality. I think about the soldiers who are away from home fighting (few illusions running through their minds); I think about and remember the victims and families of victims from 9-11 (no illusions there; anything can happen at anytime, even in America, the strongest, freeest, richest country in the world); I think of the civil rights leaders and their families (no doubt of the darkness in humanity) and the list goes on; but I won't fail to mention the firemen and policemen and their families who deal with any host of potiential realities daily. There's a lot to be thankful for everyday and far more frequently than that. There really are no guarantees. That ribbon is worth the cost of the gift it wraps....


Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Darth and For All

darkness vs the Light

Since this Star Wars keeps coming up in discussion; I will follow the stream. Some debates are as old as time. Darkness vs light is not immune. I was rambling in thought when it questioned me. I had to pause between steps to be sure the words seemed logical. In the space of a footstep, the universe shattered.

Is dark power different from light power? Are they the same; just used diffently by its yielder? Is there a one more powerful than the other? If so; what can the Light power learn from the Dark to become invincible? ...or vise versa for that matter? They say evil never dies; does good? Does the definition of "anything" require the presence of "versus?"

Alien vs Predator


Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Stop The Aliens!

I dont want to grow up

I love this picture. It reminds me to never take myself too seriously. While there are adult situations and responsibilities; I want to stay a kid in the sense of always looking at things from a point of wonder, always seeing the good, believing in magic, hoping for the impossible and looking forward to new things and adventures. I never met a hopeless kid; only hopeless adults. This picture does all of that. I found it at a great blog, Tom Wark's Fermintation blog. Some very interesting stuff and thought provoking on several levels. Isnt it odd that the sight of adults acting like children is so distasteful; and yet we all miss those days or wish we had the gonads to be that way.

Who says there arent aliens? Tin foil stops them from scanning and controlling our subconsciences. You would be amazed at how many people wear tinfoil.

tinfoil on heads


Monday, November 12, 2007

"If we could...."

IF we could:

If we could freeze TIME like we freeze water; what would we do with it? Would it become more polluted? Would it have so many more uses? Could we convert it into memories like water to vapors? Could we skate on it like a lake in winter? Maybe we could fish through it like Eskimo's for some burried commodity.... Perhaps we would shatter our futures like an ice cickle dropped on concrete floors. If one ice cube melts in a glass, does it make all the rest melt? Do chattering ice cubes know what they are saying to each other in a glass?


Wednesday, October 31, 2007

It Wasn't Me!

ugly mask

Isn't it odd that more people feel at home in masks than their own face or identity. They tend to really be the people they always wanted. One might even say masks are like money; liberaters from concern of social critique. Tis not that the public opinion matters; just very little because I am less dependent on the limitations they could impose under these circumstances. What power do masks posess or are they simply liberators of a power already at work within us held captive by social norms? Its always funny to watch Cops or whatever and they all cry it wasn't me until the word "video" comes up. A hush falls like a once defiant chin.


Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Flipped Coins

As an infant, clothes are optional.
As adults, they are expected.
As senior citizens, they're optional again.


Friday, October 26, 2007

Final Thought of the Week or Weak

"In the mirror, we can see ourselves."
In the silence, we can hear ourselves.
Naked, everybody else does." ...maximusdoom


Tuesday, October 23, 2007

What We Miss....

I was reflecting earlier after reading a poem from the Pensive. One particular line stuck with me and had a glue effect to another blog concerning Stranger Than Fiction and a TV Series, Journey Man. The short of the long is centered around we as adults trying to tell children what's real. Isn't it unique that children can "see" things that we cannot. The simplicity of their lives allows them a lack of clutter that easily sees the invisible.

Things are only as sacred as we value them. Our children are sacred; but not to everyone. We easily, as adults, find it hard to comprehend those who harm the innocence of children. Again: things are only as sacred as we value them. The same is true with our faith. Anyway, in the ficticious characters of being ourselves, we think that the way we think is the right way to think. The beauty of children is that they believe what they are told with little or no suspicion. In the Journey Man; the mother/wife is on the edge because her husband (the Journey Man -- he falls back in time to complete/save/help random people; modern Quantum Leap - after Heroes) disappears without control, regardless of his well-intended promises and obligations. He's promised his young son that he will go to the baseball game with him. Of course the two adults agonize over trying to translate what they can hardly understand themselves to the son concerning the father's work schedule. True to fate, the son comes to ask to play catch and right before his eyes, his father vanishes with a twinkle. The father doesn't know he was seen. Note: when the boy sees the twinkle, he drops his baseball immediately in wow. When he returns, he's deeply apologetic for being "absent" so much lately. As only a child could do, he remarks, "its ok, Daddy. I know. I saw you. You're magic!" The son hugs him in his effort to console the father who is obviously speechless. The issue with we adults: we do doubt, we do suspect, we immediately hold onto our securities when presented with the miraculous. Immediately, its NO THANKS, I trust my personal failure more than your empty promises.

Stranger Than Fiction

"Little did he know," (an infamous line in Stranger Than Fiction, starring Will Ferrell inwhich he hears a narrator plotting to kill him off in a story) our stale lives are quite extraordinary; except for our own fingers in the pie. Its the "let go of the rail, you can fly syndrone." Well we COULD fly, BUT we'll NEVER let go. In our effort to preserve our lives; are we killing ourselves or our potiential? What if Superman was afraid of heights...would he leap tall buildings...ABSOLUTELY NOT! What we can do is extraordinary; what we won't do is equally extraordinary. There's no need to flip the coin if we can see fine from underneath it.

Dont you miss it? Of course I am assuming that you had a time of not suspecting, doubting or hurting. IF you made of list of 5 things you miss, would the why you dont have it take the rest of your life to resolve? Is never too late? Is trust too expensive? Who's writing our lives: our fears or our passions? Can pretending make us innocent again?


Friday, October 12, 2007

The Odd Normal: We're ALL Strange

Today I just have one observation. This observation comes from a week of watching lots of different types of people. It also comes from a night of being surrounded by loud, sweaty strangers standing for at least 3 hours.

STATEMENT: It's normal to be odd. Everybody's a little, if not lot, odd and that seems to just be normal. (Maybe I only attract odd people; hence am surrounded by oddness......hmmm; no, I dont think thats it.)


Monday, October 08, 2007

Scared Together

Do you like to be scared? Do you like hearing your heartbeat in your throat? How about the sound of the blood going through your veins like a raging river? What about little noises in the dark, the tingles on the back of your neck or the dry throat from lack of moisture?....thats the trail of fear.

I used to like being scared more than I do now. This weekend I saw a movie that terrified my sweetie. It was good enuf that I decided we would watch it in the light tomorrow when "she" was more alert. One hour later, OUR hearts were still beating rapidly. We were only close to the beginning. One of the things that makes a movie scarier is if it could happen or reminded you of something everyday and of course, seeing it at night in the dark. The movie was Vacancy.
The plot....
Vacancy staring Kate Beckinsale and Luke Wilson is a film that has received mixed reactions from both the press and public since its release and after watching it this evening I can completely understand why.

Click image to see the trailer...

Amy and David Fox, a married (but soon to be divorced) couple on their way home from a long night of travelling decide to take a detour and lo and behold find themselves stranded in the middle of nowhere. As luck would have it of course, there is an old run down motel just down the road and the couple decide to spend the night. As you would expect from this type of film we soon learn that the motel owner has gone a bit ‘Norman Bates’ and whilst watching TV in their room they begin to realise that the scenes of torture and murder playing out on the screen in front of them have actually taken place inside the four walls of that very motel. They soon realise that escape is not going to be easy and a series of hidden doors and underground passages give the motel owner and his sicko friends the upper hand providing no end of hiding places in the ultimate game of cat and mouse.

Well, the movie was good. Its worth renting. If you know anything about small towns, you know how possible this movie is...and you will hesitate about getting lost the next time. But more fascinating is how under harsh circumstances, people with great differences find a way to unite in order to live. What was so important before is refocused to the things that dont cost money. It seems to always require blood, death or worse before people look beyond their petty differences. That would be odd if it wasnt so normal.


Friday, October 05, 2007

Internal Bruises

It's Friday and not a day too soon. It hasnt been a bad week; just a week. A phrase I heard this morning struck my odd today. It was "you dont look so beaten up by the world, or at least it doesnt show..." uttered early. It reminded me of many things; especially a blog from the past..."Scars". I suppose to some degree it was true on both counts...I had not been beaten up bad by life; at least it didnt show. Sure there have been disappointments along the way; but I still consider myself very "blessed," "well-off," "fortunate," or "lucky"....any number of adjectives — pick the one that suits you. At the same time, yeah, I had taken my blows; but I prefer to think of them as the diamonds in the carpet...not so evident; but gems discovered when stepped on or the light just happens to be at the right angle. I suppose I have always tried to keep my bruises hidden....besides, if noone knows where they are, the can't pick at them. [...there's a "max-ism"]...keep the weaknesses managed or at least invisible. But perhaps hiding our weaknesses is what keeps us weaker? However; if you ask Britney Spears or any number of celebs, I am certain they might disagree. On the other hand, what doesnt kill you makes you stronger...i.e. Martha Stewart. There are a lot of things to yak or debate about on this topic. What do you think? If you cannot read; but keep it secret, does it help? If you are being abused; but keep it secret, does it help? If you're a star, does your life belong on display for everyone else to display, ridicule and sneer at whenever they want? What heals faster: a cut without a bandaid exosed to fresh air or an internal cut per say in the mouth or inside? I think I prefer to show the scar; not the wound. Wounds take their own sweet time to heal; but once done — the mend is steel, stonger than before — an alloy of time, suffering and mending; stronger than the skin there before.....


Thursday, October 04, 2007

Versions of Visions...fractured water

From beneath the waves, I can see the other worlds above. Though they are slightly muted, I know they are there. It's quite easy to slip below the surfaces and even to go quite deep. Its amazing how clear the water still remains, or so it seems. I am sure there must be a bottom though I have never visited. Deep below in the darkness of the nothing; everything socializes in a divine unity. Perhaps my comprehension of "english" and its finess will not do its description justice...but who am I kidding...this conversation is between two entities: above and below. A ship always travels with an anchor. The anchor cannot get anywhere without the ship and ship must have the anchor to hold a position. That is the way it has always been. I have found very few anchors in my travels. They utimately rust or become dislodged.

Perhaps my best anchor, [Captain "H" ] is too far away and way too missed. I dont take on anchors lightly. Its a long tough journey and the monsters have not only many but very sharp teeth. Fair-weathers wont survive the trek. The Captain and I made a good crew. Unlike any other; the Captain knew how to steer the ship between the hidden rocks along the unseen barriers. He could teleport from past to present and back to the future to realign the ship if need be. Oh Captain, O Captain; where for art thou? I hope you are well. The ship sails beyond the horizon with far less anchors of less note. But it ultimately is always that way — he, surrounded by many, still alone in the silent nothing, vast as the horizon of days yet dawned and the future that has already been the past. Even as the pup becomes the wolf; you didnt consider your own worth; but stayed til the end. noteable. I do hope you are well. May the refraction of the sun be equally as stunning from the other side of the darkness. The sun needs the moon; the darkness, the light; the wind and the air are brothers.

In the quest for stunning imagery, I must give severe note to this exceptionally strange but fascinating blog: perhaps you will be Really nice content and imagery beyond most others.


Thursday, September 27, 2007

Six Packs of Nothing...

"...even nothing costs something..."

Its more than just some corny line meant to send your mind in circles — its true. I often think of nothing: its weight, its presence, its dimensions, its essence and its silent power. Nothing can do quite a bit. Sometimes I have felt a love for nothing. It has a way of filling a space and keeping everything else out. I have used nothing just that way many times. It can be all-consuming; even harder to manage than something. Nothing is like warm crystal clear water poured into a spotless container and sat in the matter what, its still there. If it gets darker, colder or undisturbed — its still there. If it gets brighter, warmer or bumped — its stil there. It can hold its own. Nothing can be used to fill space. It has the ability to function like some vital organ pumping a sympathetic chaos through your constricting veins, melting every obstacle with comfortable tickles. Before you disturb someone's nothing; make sure its not something very important already. Nothing really matters!


Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Death in the Wind

fizz fizz

IT is the Beauty and Ugly of TIME that ties me to the beginning and the end of me. How marvelously mysterious it is to be born to die. Isnt it fascinating like an Alkeseltser being dropped into the liquid of infinity...the bowl remains, the Alkeseltzer dissolves; not completely "gone" but far less "distinguishable" from the whole or the others in the pack.

Sometimes the "ugly" is the beauty for me. Will I miss people...maybe. I have always responded with "but I have a really good memory." Over time, I have skipped some funerals simply because I chose to remember them as they were---full of life. Sometimes it just created more questions than necessary. The bird in the bush is better left to rest. I remember the first time I "touched" a passed person...hmmm, interesting I thought, cold to the touch, like a cool refrigerator in a wind-leaked house. It was obvious that something that was there before is not anymore. How bizarre. It all looks the same; but something is missing...the "energy factor." That invisible something that the visible cannot deny; recognizes when its absent but cannot see it when present.

I am reminded of several poems about the wind that remind me of the spark of life:
Have you seen the wind?
Did it just pass by?
I can't see it,
In the cloudless sky.

But my hat blew away,
And I saw the trees sway,
So this must be
a windy day.
© by leslie tryon

Voices in the Wind
  Words from within,
only voices in the wind.
Echos in your ear, are
only voices in the wind.
Telling you my thoughts
only voices in the wind.
Poetry wrote for you,
only voices in the wind.
Memories fade away, like
voices in the wind.
Telling you how I feel,
only voices in the wind.
When I die, so will
the voices in the wind.

james foulk

The wind is without there and howls in the trees

THE wind is without there and howls in the trees,
And the rain-flurries drum on the glass:
Alone by the fireside with elbows on knees
I can number the hours as they pass.
Yet now, when to cheer me the crickets begin,
And my pipe is just happily lit,
Believe me, my friend, tho' the evening draws in,
That not all uncontested I sit.

Alone, did I say? O no, nowise alone
With the Past sitting warm on my knee,
To gossip of days that are over and gone,
But still charming to her and to me.
With much to be glad of and much to deplore,
Yet, as these days with those we compare,
Believe me, my friend, tho' the sorrows seem more
They are somehow more easy to bear.

And thou, faded Future, uncertain and frail,
As I cherish thy light in each draught,
His lamp is not more to the miner - their sail
Is not more to the crew on the raft.
For Hope can make feeble ones earnest and brave,
And, as forth thro' the years I look on,
Believe me, my friend, between this and the grave,
I see wonderful things to be done.

To do or to try; and, believe me, my friend,
If the call should come early for me,
I can leave these foundations uprooted, and tend
For some new city over the sea.
To do or to try; and if failure be mine,
And if Fortune go cross to my plan,
Believe me, my friend, tho' I mourn the design
I shall never lament for the man.

Robert Louis Stevenson

more poems of the wind.

Such is the mystery of life wrapped in the paper of death. The bow of eternity flows in the winds of eternity...

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

A Spider This Way Was


Spiders like events spin emotions are like cobwebs.
Pronunciation: \?käb-?web\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English coppeweb, from coppe spider (from Old English a¯torcoppe) + web; akin to Middle Dutch coppe spider
Date: 14th century

1 a: the network spread by a spider : spiderweb b: tangles of the silken threads of a spiderweb usually covered with accumulated dirt and dust
2: something that entangles, obscures, or confuses (a cobweb of law and politics)
— cob·webbed \-?webd\ adjective

They stick to the inside of the skull awaiting the casual passerby to be ensnared; even the self-wanderer. These mysterious forms once invisible made visible by time and dust that illuminates their sagging limbs and illustrates their gaping embraces. I like cobwebs. They are evidence of something this way once came. That is the plus and minus of emotions/memories. Who has seen the wind unless it has picked up passengers? Such is the way of many great mysteries and things wishing to be as such. This blog has a particular purpose/message to each reader as individual as fingerprints. That's the beauty of personal experience. When we are alone in the dark; do the cobwebs not spark our fears and our longings? Will they not at last embrace us again more faintly than when they were invisible? In the moment, everything is consumed by the focus of such time. A cobweb has the ability to do just ensnares and startles all who happen upon it like cold water thrown on a sleeping child. Emotions, cobwebs, spiders — all craftsmen of noteable statue.

Prepare for the devourer....


Monday, September 17, 2007

Whose Plate Are We On?

We as humans always want to believe that we are the TOP of the food chain.
Hmmm...isn't it interesting that some creatures feast on dust...
Aren't we dust?
Do we war not against flesh and blood; but principalities?

Ephesians 6:12
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

Do our freedoms not enslave us?


Friday, September 14, 2007

The Skill of Saying Nothing...

secret agent man

I was recently working out at my gym and met this very interesting person. Since he appeared to be in excellent shape, I thought I might trouble him for some tips. Needless to say, people are always willing to talk about themselves....but not this guy! So I volunteered some information about myself and boldly ask, "what do you do?" The startlingly polite and discrete reply was extremely and skillfully empty. So I volunteered some more information....give and get, right?

We continued to banter for the remaining time inwhich he gave good tips, watched my form and idlly chatted about how important foundational issues were as opposed to how much weight. He had the swagger of military/former military. I hadn't encountered someone so ept at evading information in years. By the end of our time, we had had delightful conversation and I had learned a new exercise. I thanked him and retorted that it had been my pleasure. Isn't it the lack of things that make some more interesting? Perhaps most times, we are better off not knowing — but we can't help but still ask the same unanswered questions over and over.... How oddly normal.



Friday, September 07, 2007

Somebody's Got To Be Second!

top dog

The "pensive one" and I had an interesting exchange of memories and comments regarding high school. I remember there always being "that guy" who was better at everything! That guy who you could never beat or outshine or even one up, the one who was your motivation and terror...."ole mr. everything," "mr. all that!" Everybody's got one; well at least I did/do. It's been around as long as Cain and Able — so long as humans have breathed. Even the old painting masters: Picasso, DaVinci, Michaelangelo, Titian, Carrivaggio, etc. had these figurative nemesis.

Ah yes, this all came about reflecting on the Colts/Manning and André Feder. Feder and Tiger Woods are reportedly friends. It's like all the pretty girls know/know of each other. The same is true of champions. The same is true in leaders of the world/countries. The same is true of principalities dark and light. Somebody's got to be second for someone to be number one! And some one MUST be #1! (somebody's gonna get upset....but I am quotin' like its wroten') Even God declares He is a jealous God and that noone is to be before him; none is greater, He is the beginning and the end....! Perhaps Ali was not the first wordsmith. If we are "little copies or creations of the original," will we not exemplify some of the same characteristics? Of course. It is no great accident that 5 top songs revolve around the status and power of being a Rockstar....

We seem to Need to be worshipped and TO worship. Does that make us humanistic or godlike? It is evident in every human to seek something, to create something, to DO something, to CHOOSE it no wonder that gods war too?


Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Laughing is a serious matter!

I had a great weekend with family, neighbors and friends. ONE thing really stuck out. After a Labor Day cookout social, we retired to play with a recently purchased Wii game. My neighbors who are beyond their 50s played with us. Aside from listening to each other tell Dave Chappelle stories and recants of personal similar incidents. Without doubt, it was a group of severely mixed backgrounds, ages and ethnicities, laughter erased all the lines. Tears streamed from funny stories. It was really good to see everyone really laughing hard and mingling with familiar ease. Once the bowling, golfing, tennis and baseball Wii started, there was no bottom to the depths of wholesome laughter. Once the "virtual" sport concept took over, Katey bar the door. Its kinda like watching a scarey movie without the sound or imagine CSI without any music or your grandparents dancing without any I getting warm yet? It was all good. There's nothing funny about a life without laughter. A day without real laughter is no joke. Ironicly, some of our most embarrassing moments become the greatest fuel for laughter later; why not start laughing now and save yourself some tears. Laughing is really important and you're really too old to be embarrassed any more.


Thursday, August 30, 2007

Oh Glorious Terrible Realities!

Another foggy morning; such a sight not seen in a very long time here in the Music City. I always find it entertaining when people do things that make you go "duhhhh." For instance, why would you get in the left lane going 20 mph and have the nerve to be angry at people riding your bumper to get over. Why would you pull out all your money from your purse in public and be surprised that somebody robbed you. They say advertising sells! Why wouldn't a thief break into your car since your purse and its contents are clearly displayed? Why would you leave the house in something with almost nothing to it and they act offended because somebody looked? I guess these are just the kind of things that make life/people pretty hard to understand. Why would someone die for me that didn't have to? I don't think I would pay for somebody else's problems/junk; especially if they deserved it. Why would someone much greater do so much for one such less?

jesus welcoming

It reminds me of the alien sitings.....why would they choose the stupidest people to reveal themselves to? Why do more miracles happen in third world countries? Do demons gain power from our unbelief? What about vampires, giants, fairies and the like? Are they some celestial downcast or diviant or human hybrid? Hey, sometimes you just gotta wonder. The odd thing is that in an "intelligent" society, it is the question askers who become the heritics and stoned. We are free to "think like everybody else," and nothing more!

deomon on film

Wednesday, August 29, 2007


How does it all get started? How does something "sacred" cause so many wars and discriminations?
How do you limit love and segregate worship? How can everybody be the same; but not them? Only who is going where?
You did not say "it" before "he"'re gonna burn. Too bad if you didn't get baptised.... Where does truth separate from tradition?


Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Apes of Wrath

mad monkey

We, as people, go to great lengths to be mysterious or something other than what we are or thought to be or at least, better than the next/other person. Let's face it; most of us LOVE ourselves. However, two of the most popular songs are Party Like A Rockstar and I Wanna Be A Rockstar. Is this a contradiction? Who are we? Once upon a time, our heroes were Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, Martin Luther Kind, malcolm X, George Washington Carver, Fredrick Douglas, PLato, John F. Kennedy, Patrick Henry, etc.... They never "seemed" to be that "self concerned;" just more focused on teh whole/betterment of society. I remember a time that NOBODY would admit to being a pornstar or a pimp; but now we put it on billboards...hmmmm. Once upon a time, kids came home with a blackeye; but at least alive. Nobody got shot.

Even the greeks idealized the human. Take for instance the tale of Narcissus. Narcissus was not capable of loving anyone and had been cruel to his would-be lovers, mostly male. He considered Echo a nuisance, particularly since she had what he must have thought, a weird habit of repeating what he said. He turned coldly away from her each time she came near. Echo pined away until finally she disappeared altogether; only her voice remained. At the same time she was pining away, so was Narcissus, since one of his rejected lovers had prayed to Nemesis to punish the self-centered youth. Nemesis caused him to fall in love with the reflection in a pool, and thereafter he could not bear to leave teh beautiful youth starign up at him from the depths. In this way, he, like Echo, disappeared; in his accustomed place by the pool, a flower grew that was named for him.

So when we hate others; is it really the reflection of ourselves we dislike? Is it the realiztion that I am no better than they are? Is it the haunting fact that everybody dies? Do we despise that something greater made us not as great? Maybe its just "why not me?" Perhaps humanity is a disease that only mortality can cure.... Perhaps we have been a great "A.I. Experiment" (artificial intelligence) of biblical proportions...just perhaps..... Just perhaps we will always be Apes of Wrath...


Tuesday, August 14, 2007

The Major of Minor Things!

I gotta be me. I am a revolutionary!

How is it that the little things tend to be the ones that really do us in. Isn't it the slightest little thing like open cabnet doors, capless toothpaste, dirty catsup nozzles, dingy whites, human noises, ice crunchers, soup slurpers, hummers, gum poppers and general other junk that tends to ignite the dynamite.

Ok...I am an anal retentive. I complete all single similar functions then go to the next. Sock, sock, shoe shoe. I know that makes sense now that you've read it. Do you? Or are you a sock shoe, sock shoe? The Pensive and I have many fascinating converstations on many different subjects and levels. This one was no less. In theory, it should be EASY to over look minor, little, petty things — wouldnt you think? Well thinkin' aint doin' and if it was ever as easy as sayin,' folks would do a lot less prayin'!

So back to the major of minor things. Is it really the thing we hate so much or is it that it might remind us of ourselves? [stay with my ramblings for just a moment more] But, I say to myself, I don't pop gum because its so irritating to me — so maybe its someone else's lack of consideration of ME! Does that make me selfish? So I go to someones home and throw my dirty feet on their furniture. But I wouldnt do that; why isnt it ok if they do? Is that being selfish? Maybe its the same as piped in doesnt matter if its music you like — its piped in; you HAVE to listen to it. Is that the crux of this pontificating ramble? Is everything really about ourselves? Is it all a great circus to belabor our own greatness in contrast to someone else...kinda one of those "hold still so I can stand on your head kinda things because it makes ME feel good." Isnt there too much credence given to "feeling good." What happened to the generations of great sufferers/sacrificers for those coming later?

One might argue that the well-meaning parental philosophy of making sure my kids have it better than I did has come back to bite us in the buttocks. NOT only is there a lack of appreciation; but work ethic, thankfulness, ownership, patience, responsibility and moral conscienceness. In fact, hands out before stepping forward — is that our destined legacy.
Ralph Waldo Emerson notes:
But worse than the harping on one string, Nature has secured individualism, by giving the private person a high conceit of his weight in the system. The pest of society is egotists. There are dull and bright, sacred and profane, coarse and fine egotists. 'Tis a disease that, like influenza, falls on all constitutions. In the distemper known to physicians as chorea, the patient sometimes turns round, and continues to spin slowly on one spot. Is egotism a metaphysical varioloid of this malady? The man runs round a ring formed by his own talent, falls into an admiration of it, and loses relation to the world. It is a tendency in all minds. One of its annoying forms, is a craving for sympathy. The sufferers parade their miseries, tear the lint from their bruises, reveal their indictable crimes, that you may pity them. They like sickness, because physical pain will extort some show of interest from the bystanders, as we have seen children, who, finding themselves of no account when grown people come in, will cough till they choke, to draw attention. ...more

It's all about me and whatever makes me feel good; so what if you dont like it. I heard part of an arguement after schools in middle TN decided upon a certain dress code. Ironicly, a parent got on TV an complained that their dear child was being robbed of his indivuality. Then homeschool! You dont own the school, it belongs to someone bigger than you. Maybe you havent noticed; but kids are dying over brand name shoes/clothes. Perhaps it not a question of the "have's" and "have nots" but one of what is the focus of school. It certainly isnt fashion. The legacy we havc fed will soon turn to feast on our rotting aged defenseless bones; all the while, being broadcast on youtube for mere entertainment's sake. But we will all nod and agree; we certainly dont want to be labeled. Shhhhh....its harmless kid fun. It's not a MAJOR problem that the boys can't read anything but the cup sizes on little suzy in math class. It's ok that she dresses like that, someday she will be a star! She's gotta get her foot in the door young. He likes his hair in his face, it matches his ear rings. If he pulled up his pants he would be like everyone else......blah blah blah blah.....


Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Hmmm...No, Don't Go This Way!

I wish I could say it was funny; but often it isn't. People rarely listen to good advice or you get branded as a "negative nellie." It is ironic or moronic that people in full view of your statistical track record for being right still ignore/discount your concerns. In fact, they always seem surprised when they discover the uh-ohs! Lord knows, by then, this ole country boy aint got no tears or empathy. At times, I have been known to chuckle.

No, I am not saying I have never made mistakes..."Lord knows." But I do try to NOT make the same one twice and certainly not repeatedly. Have you know someone who must be "practicing" stupid. I mean really! Einstein said, "insanity is doing the same things and expecting a differnt result. I think I agree with that one. Truth be told, I have no more sympathy for myself when I make these kind of errors in judgement.

This blog doesn't actually refer to any one person inspite of several coming to mind as soon as I say this (and they know who they are). I have been under heavy deadlines for almost a month. So far, each instance is because somebody didnt care enuf to do it right in the first place or on time. At the last minute obviously, EVERYTHING matters now! HoooAH!!! Ya think? Its all good. I have gotten much better at handling these types of situations. Se La Vie!

What's odd about it all is how we are often pissed about things done to us that we routinely do to others. I cant count the times that I listen to folks going off about somebody else. I also can't count the times I have responded with "you don't say....that sounds familiar..." [retorted with a sinister smile]. Isn't it odd that that is sooooo normal.

My pensive co-worked asked if I was going to blog about today's escapades. I responded by saying that I wasn't much into b'ing and ranting, I will survive anyway. I can't be stopped! So I choose a global viewpoint for various principles that govern efficiency. But that is my normal globally it them or is it really just me, and how can I ensure that I don't become guilty of the same.


Friday, July 27, 2007

The Long Return

DATELINE confrontation

I just came here to git ur dun; not be undone!

Well it's been some time since I related my normal oddness that perpetuates the continued normalcy of the daily odd. Hence; I climb back on this trusty steed to ride into the saturation of our odd ways. I apologize for my absence and for your longing delay of gratification from "the odd normal."

Isn't it normal to enjoy good things? Isn't it equally normal to enjoy bad things? I was watching "DATELINE NBC: To Catch a Preditor" and this time they were in FL I think at some beachhouse in a wealthy part of town. Funny — they had the same result or more — predators coming out of the woodwork. They say its become an epedimic. I was really struck by one story where this young guy complains that now he will be branded/labeled as a 'loser.' think?

Isn't it "normal" for us to "assume" that these sort of stories only happen in the poor, dirty places of the world. God forbid, that might ever happen in "so-and-so's" neighborhood. Here in "Sunnyville," we're all well educated, financially stable, successful happy people. Isn't that the same thing they said about drugs? Only "those" people would do that; not us...... You may begin to see a pattern word keeps popping up. No, not those; the word I am referring to is "people." Even at our best, our worst is always present. Without the light; there would be no darkness. Isn't it ironic that the folks caught on these types of shows always respond not with "poor child" but with "this isn't gonna be on TV, is it?" I confess, I enjoy watching the moment, the instant they are informed that this is Chris Hansen of DATELINE and hands begin to tremble and facial contortions begin. Of course, they were never REALLY going to do anything. YES, these are my condoms, wine, strawberries, chat conversations and 2 hour drives. Uhh...oh my, I am sitting naked in somebody's house I dont even know: but I was on my way to the shower when you showed up. We love a trainwreck; don't we?...we "people." We people make good TV. If nobody was watching Jerry Springer; it wouldn't be on. We LOVE a trainwreck.

YES, most of us know what's basicly wrong or right. For the most part, that has never been enuf. We love pleasure and we will do whatever to avoid pain. In the same breath, we will opt for pleasure NOW; and deal with the consequences LATER. Hence; a country of credit card debtors. The justifications come as: (1) "I'll pay for that later; but ONLY if I get caught. Now is my time to just feel good." (2) Oh that will never happen to me (3) That's just them, I'm different (4) I do a lot for everybody else and I am good all the time. I deserve this. (5) ...and many more.

In the end: we judge these "other people" on what they did or were caught doing. Unfortunately, in front of the camera, our story changes to: "Judge me on what I meant to do." The "devil" made me do it. It's the media's fault. Who needs these kind of shows like DATELINE?