Friday, May 30, 2008
The Gecko
I killed a Gecko last night in probably the most horrible way I can imagine. It was an accident, but I still feel sick about it. He had gotten into the railing of my shower doors, presumably to find shelter from the giant monkey thudding around the building. When I decided it was time to clean myself up, the outer door must have run him over in its track as I slid it open. As a result, his back legs were completely ruined and he was partially disemboweled. I found him trying to drag himself away from the rails toward the bathroom floor. I cleaned him up the best I could, but it was clear that there was no saving him. So I did what I could, which wasn't much, and went to bed. By the time my alarm went off this morning, he was gone, and as silly as it sounds, I couldn't help but feel remorse. After all, this little gecko had done nothing to deserve the fate that had befallen him and to die under those circumstances must have been awful. Death is death I suppose, and his death was as inevitable as my own, but to be crushed and mangled in this way, without a quick end or any hope of recovery, is a terrible way to leave this life.
Now I understand that anyone reading this would probably be convinced, if they weren't already, that I am mentally ill, and at this point, I wouldn't argue with the idea. Be that as it may, I feel genuinely sad that I was the source of this gecko's destruction. Had I known he was there, I would have captured and released him in safety. As it happened, I destroyed him without even trying. Such is the nature of human existence. And I couldn't help wondering what I would be experiencing, were I in his place. Would I be afraid? Would I be calmly resolved to my destiny? I like to think I would be serene in my passing. I like to believe the understanding that death is little more than an inevitable transition from one state of existence to another, would soothe my passage from physical existence into something intangible. I like to believe that I would pass with some dignity, were something to happen and I found myself maimed beyond hope. But I am not 100% positive. I would not go screaming, that much I am confident of, but were I to be taken today, I am not sure I would be wholly prepared to go, despite my beliefs on the matter.
Were I to die today, I would go with a sense that I could have done more good in this life, could have been of more use in the losing war against humanity's destructive nature, but the reality is that I am part of that destructive force, as evidenced by this episode with the gecko. Buddhists believe that such accidental acts are not karmically staining, because there was no malicious intent or willfulness in the destruction of another life. Jains, on the other hand, would perceive this as a terrible turn of karmic events, though the degree of negativity would be mitigated somewhat by the unintentional nature of what occurred. Regardless, they would pay penance and seek a karmic cleansing. To the self-obsessed, ego-driven, Western mind, such an idea sounds absurd out of hand. After all, it was only a gecko, right? But in reality, that gecko was made of the same elemental components I am. We are both carbon-based, multi-cellular, flesh-and-blood beings. My superiority and his insignificance are purely and wholly perceptual concepts. In the context of the universe, which is utterly indifferent to homo sapiens' egomania, we are essentially equal. I suppose how much of that idea someone accepts as truth would determine how ridiculous my unease over what happened would appear to be.
I understand that the leather I wear when riding my motorcycle is the product of an animal's death, and I am sincerely sorry for it. I understand that I kill hundreds, if not thousands of insects when riding said motorcycle, or driving my car, or simply walking around, and I am sorry about that as well. Am I sorry enough to give up motorcycle riding and car driving? Not yet. Sorry enough to give up leather? Absolutely, should I find a suitable replacement in the world of synthetics. To the Judeo-Christian eye/ear, that probably sounds absolutely idiotic, but it's the truth. If one is to argue that good acts are more important than harmful ones and that all life has some value, the illusions of superiority, self-importance, even the self itself, have to be discarded. The idea that I somehow bring more value to the natural world than that gecko is asinine when my existence is examined objectively. I and my fellow humans have an infinitely more destructive impact on the living things around us than all of those living things combined have ever had upon us. If we do not recognize and consciously atone for that negative impact, we live in denial and only lose ourselves further in the lies we conjure to satiate our ravenous egos and fearful minds. In so doing, we become the servants of said illusions and falsehoods, thereby stepping further away from the fundamental truth that we are nothing more than matter and energy, the same matter and energy in all physical things. Nothing more, nothing less.
Labels: life or the lack thereof, spirituality
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Nick Bollea, innocent victim of God's will
So Nick Bollea/Hogan was caught on tape essentially blaming John Graziano for the vegetative state his former friend now finds himself in after being involved in Bollea's now infamous car accident last year. If you haven't heard, CNN has some excerpts in a feature you can view here. Apparently, the Hulkster believes Graziano had it coming and that his injury was due to some mysterious wrong against God. John Graziano deserves to be a vegetable for life because he was "aggressive", "he yelled at people", and "he was a negative person". Of course, Nick is the real victim here, as he is wasting away in jail for 8 whole months, while he could be out making a reality TV show or building a Supra to replace the one he ruined. How inconvenient for him, particularly since he is innocent of any wrongdoing.
At what point do people show themselves to be such disgusting and irredeemable examples of humanity that the world turns their back on them? I cannot understand what kind of man would teach his son that it is acceptable to blame a friend for his supposed hardships, when said friend is essentially barely functional because of the son's actions. I understand that this is America in the 21st century and that the idea of honor is utterly absurd today, but how could people be so blatantly disingenuous and still consider themselves viable human beings? The bigger question is, how many of the Hulk's fans will be willing to forgive the aging actor after such a display. Once the teary-eyed apologies start and the feigned contrition kicks into high gear, who knows.
So a man who pretends to be a warrior raises a son who pretends to be a decent human being in a family that pretends to have some value to society. Sounds like magic to me! Florida is really shining brightly lately. Between the douchebag celebrities with no sense of accountability and the morally loose teachers dropping their panties for teenaged boys and girls, this place seems more paradise all the time!
Labels: celebrity
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Going On
Easily the best song from Gnarls Barkley's latest album with an equally interesting video. The one problem I have with the song is that it is so short!
Gnarls Barkley - Going On
Going On
I’ve seen it with my own eyes
How we’re gettin’ otherwise
Without the luxury of leavin’
The touch and feeling of breath
And times you’re both technically
Something you’ve got to believe in
Connect the cause and effect
One foot in front of the next
This is the start of a journey.
And my rhyme is already gone...alone,
Somehow this doesn’t concern me.
And you can stand right there if you want
But I’m going on
And I’m prepared to go it alone
I’m going on
To a place in the sun that’s nice and warm
I’m going on
And I’m sure they’ll have a place for you to
Anyone that needs what they want,
and doesn’t want what they need
I want nothing to do with
And to do what I want
And to do what I please
Is first on my to do list
But every once in a while I think about her smile
One of the few things I do miss
But baby I‘ve to go
Baby I’ve got to know
Baby I’ve got to prove it
And I’ll see you when you get there
But I’m going on
And I’m prepared to go it alone
I’m going on
May my love lift you up to the place you belong
I’m going on
And I promise I’ll be waiting for you
Freedom is me
Still I try I never know what to do
Don’t follow me...
Labels: video
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Bleh...
Everyone has at least one part of their personality they wish could be turned off. I can point to two components on my cognitive self explicitly: my compulsive cataloging of other humans' behavior and the primitive drive toward companionship that makes the first such a massive liability. These two things combine to form something of an intellectual prison. Nothing I have tried, from mediation to social isolation has been able to stop my almost obsessive observance of, and absorption within, human behavior. My brain seems hard-wired to record, catalog, and contemplate the actions of myself and my fellow humans, particularly those of a negative or destructive nature. This is the pessimism the SIL referred to in previous comments, but there is something more than simple pessimism at work. This obsessive behavior is partly inate, in that I absorb and contemplate nearly everything I come into contact with, but it is also a part of how I have learned by watching, rather than by doing. Some lessons are better learned, and taught, by others.
It is said that a wise man learns from the mistakes of others and I tried to embrace that.
But where the train derails and I get it wrong is in letting the actions of others have a powerful effect on my perceptions of reality. I've written about it before and will probably write about it again, because the hopelessness of the situation vexes me to no end. The idea that, to be content in life, one must disassociate to the point of not caring what other people do with their lives, is an incredibly difficult thing for me to do. Why do I care? I don't know and I want to stop.
I suppose some of it comes down to a belief that utopia is impossible only because people lack the strength and will to make it reality. The only thing stopping us is us and therein lies the problem. There is no utopia coming, because people won't allow it to happen, but utopia could happen, if only people would let it. How are you supposed to find contentment with that sort of paradoxical nonsense constantly swirling around your mind?
The real question for me is, why aren't more people frustrated by this fact? Why isn't everyone pissed off that the only reason they are not living in paradise is the willful denial of paradise by their fellow humans? As far as I know, I harm no one, I take advantage of, manipulate, and undermine no one. My perception is that my life has had a nearly zero negative footprint on anyone's life. In my mind, something so simple as minimal negative impact has a major positive effect. What if everyone could say that? What if we all interacted on a benign level, at worst? I try to have a positive effect on the people I care about, but I actively try to have little or no effect on those I do not care about.
I am not an angel, but I wish I were. In that light, I approach existence. I am not claiming to have the answer to the world's problems, but I do believe there is great value in the idea of common decency. The idea that I do not have to like, enjoy, or even respect someone to exhibit common decency. Fact is, in my experience, common decency is not so common. But I'm rambling and I'm tired and I'm buzzed off of a couple drinks, so odds are that little or nothing I might type will make any coherent sense, but then very little seems to make sense these days, so perhaps I am making perfect sense after all. Who's to say?
I included the lyrics to a song by Atmosphere below. This particular song is off their new album, When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold. This track has struck me as being particularly poignant in my own life of late. I want things to make sense. I want to accept people for what they are and be OK with that. I want to lower my expectations to the point that I am content with expecting nothing from others. To date, in all of these endeavors, I have failed.
Atmosphere - Like the Rest of Us
See I've been here for thirty-some years
Lookin' at myself in the same dirty mirror
So it ain't like I don't comprehend
Open that bottle, swallow that friend
No crime to take a little too much
Got time to drink away a few months
Got a little cocaine habit
But he says he only does it if somebody else has it
Go do that shit, do that shit, lady
She went vegetarian for the baby
Third trimester, I see the kid kick
She showed me outside when she gave me a cigarette
Shit, there's no way to measure it
Not every pony grows up to be a Pegasus
Ya gotta let people be hypocrites
Count your blessin's and mind yo business
[Chorus: x2]
Stuck with yourself like the rest of us
Dirt gets done and then we back to dust
Runnin' in place
Sun in my face
Let me fly 'way
Heaven won't wait
Heaven won't wait
Let me fly 'way
Get in my way
Everyday
Heaven won't wait
Let me fly 'way
Get in my way
Everyday
Just tryin ta keep my mind on work
It's like that's the only way to love this life on Earth
It's like everyone takes number one in the race
'Cause we all keep runnin' in place
Here kitty kitty, can't train that fox
Must be drinkin' that name brand scotch
All of us cut from the same damn cloth
Some of us never cut the price tags off
She ended up on the pole
With her heels pointin' at her Jesus she used to know
Stripped her down to her naked body
We made her drown in a lake full of patriarchy
In between the pride and the misery
With the infinite supply of sympathy
Are these invisible walls that hold me
Like this goldfish bowl is the whole sea
[Chorus: x2]
Stuck with yourself like the rest of us
Dirt gets done and then we back to dust
Runnin' in place
Sun in my face
Let me fly 'way
Heaven won't wait
Heaven won't wait
Let me fly 'way
Get in my way
Everyday
Heaven won't wait
Let me fly 'way
Get in my way
Everyday
Labels: life or the lack thereof
Every guy who has ever lived can relate to this video
Thought this was funny as Hell. :)
Labels: video
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Law and Order
Had the pleasure of being issued my first ever speeding ticket yesterday for doing 38mph in a 25mph zone. On the surface, that makes me look incredibly irresponsible. Thirteen miles per hour over the speed limit in a 25, what was I thinking? I was thinking that the road was 35mph and switched to 25mph around 1000ft from where I got popped. Unfortunately, I was looking for the Oldsmar library, as I was on my way to return some books, so I somehow missed the sign. One thousand feet before, I was totally legal and responsible, doing a pedestrian 3mph over the limit. That 1000 feet is going to cost me $165, which put a smile on my face. After all, I love donating money to the county government, because they do such a fine job of spending that money wisely and for the benefit of all. It is hooligans like me that need to be disciplined and I feel punishing me for violating a completely unnecessary reduction in the speed limit (low mph speed traps are the thing in Oldsmar these days) will surely teach me a lesson about responsibility and personal accountability…because I need such lessons. Well done officer, well done.
In other news, Ted Kennedy, youngest of the infamous Kennedy boys, was diagnosed with a brain tumor yesterday. Subsequently, the networks lit up with day long coverage and discussion. His diagnosis has been described as tragic, heart breaking, and horrifying. John McCain described Ted as the "last lion of the Senate". Am I missing something here? This is a man from one of America's most corrupt political families. He is infamous for his drinking and carousing, to the point that his drunkenness became a running joke during the 70s and 80s. He is the man responsible for the drowning death of Mary Jo Kopechne at Chappaquiddick. He is also the man who never paid any sort of legal price for his role in that death. It's good to be a Kennedy, I guess.
If you are a Kennedy, you can cheat on your wife, break laws with impunity, and even kill someone, all without ever having to face the proverbial music. In fact, people will love you, even feel sorry for you, and vote you into the Senate for next 40 years. People are funny that way. If Ted Kennedy had been born into a poor family without any power or influence, he would have been up on manslaughter charges for the Chappaquiddick incident. There would have been calls from the victim's family and friends to lock him up and throw away the key. In the Chappaquiddick case, the victim's family took a pair of pay outs and remained silent. Their daughter's life, and their silence, was worth about $140k in the end. Life is cheap, as they say. Ol' Teddy paid $90k of that from his own pocket, a pittance for America's most famous family.
After the accident, he made no 911 call. There were no panicked knocks at nearby doors, or pleas for help. In fact, he ran by 4 homes on his way to the hotel where some of his friends were staying. Once there, he called no one, but he did return to the scene of the accident with his friends, all of whom decided to do nothing. In fact, he did not contact police about the accident until AFTER the body had already been found. An honorable and courageous man, this Ted Kennedy. A man to honor, respect, and idolize…a lion indeed. With such a distinguished record of personal behavior, it is easy to see why he became a hero to the people of Massachusetts. Must be something, or someone, in the water up there (cue rim shot!).
Now, I am not saying the man deserved a malignant brain tumor. There hasn't been a time where I was motivated to wish the man ill, but is it too much to ask that people be more rational and intelligent about who they honor? I was highly disappointed to read that Barack Obama refers to the man as a friend and it is just plain ridiculous to champion this man as some sort of heroic American. If Ted Kennedy is the model for what it means to be American, I want absolutely NOTHING to do with being a model citizen. The man is no hero, he is not an example, and while I wouldn't sincerely wish cancer on anyone, I am in no way moved to shed tears for the type of person who engages in life the way Ted Kennedy has. Life is temporary for all of us, and there are certainly better people to extend an empathetic hand. Treating this coddled, sheltered, corrupted politician as some sort of tragic martyr figure is absurd and should be seen as an insult to the average human's intelligence.
Labels: life or the lack thereof, politics
Monday, May 19, 2008
I am not a cowboy
Country theme bars, like any theme bar, draw a predictable, if narrow demographic. Of course, all that changes on nights with drink specials. For instance, Saturday night is $10 sink-or-swim night at the local "country" inebriation station, so the demographics get skewed away from urban cowfolk by an influx of ordinary suburbanites looking to get hammered on the cheap. Thus, you end up with a mass of 20-somethings donned in baggy pants and DC hats standing around the perimeter of a dance floor inhabited by the cowboy crowd urgently line-dancing to everything from contemporary western-pop to countrified hip-hop. The douchebag quotient is high, with blowouts and flat-billed hats combining with pristine cowboy boots and camouflage trucker hats. The scene is a hodgepodge of pretend and make believe, making it a wonderful representation of the suburban soup.
For someone as socially retarded as myself, such an environment is about as welcoming as nails being driven into my eyes. The place is packed with people, so there's no space to sit and relax. Smoke is everywhere, contemporary country music fills the place with a wall of twangy relationship laments, affirmations of cowgirl power, and blind nationalism. A sea of people in various states of drunkenness bump, and jostle each other continuously, since the crowd is packed in so densely there's limited space to move. The one plus, and there is just one, is that the drink specials and dancing attract an unusually high number of young ladies. For reasons that defy explanation, a large number of women enjoy country music and line dancing. And there is something to be said for an attractive woman in shorts, boots and a cowboy hat. lol Unfortunately, I have neither Brad Pitt's looks, nor Bill Gates' money, so I am dependant on conversation to make any headway with a female. Given the nature of the venue, there is little opportunity to engage in anything resembling intelligent conversation. The place is too loud for easy, casual conversation, and more often than not, the girl you're wanting to talk to is going to be dancing.
It does not take a genius to know that a guy who can dance is going to do better than one who cannot, particularly in a bar where half the square footage is devoted to dance floor. If only I were a guy who enjoyed dancing, or one who enjoyed doing something I don't enjoy(i.e. dancing) in order to chat up women. Sadly, I am neither of those guys. It's not about being embarrassed or worried about looking like a fool. Certainly, those things are factors, but the truth is that I simply do not have fun while dancing. Expecting me to enjoy dancing is like expecting a girl to enjoy sparring or playing basketball. These are things I have enjoyed, but there are relatively few women who would claim to enjoy them. More often than not, people assume a dislike of dancing has something to do with insecurity, but the reality is that dancing is just not enjoyable for everyone…especially line dancing.
So the obvious question is, why be there in the first place? And my honest answer is that I only go because some of my friends enjoy the place. It's really that simple. My single buddies like the place because cute girls are everywhere, so I go along for a few watered down drinks, a bit of shouted conversation, and the occasional laugh. The one bonus is that I get great parking when I am on the bike, while everyone in a car has to drive around aimlessly, hoping that the clouds will part and a spot will open up. Ironically, this is one country bar where Harleys are almost unheard of. The last time I was there, I met a buddy of mine who drove, so I parked by myself on one of the sidewalks near the building. When we left, Audrey was surrounded by sportbikes. That says all I need to know about the place's country credentials. :)
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
We should all be as strong as a deafblind little girl
The argument goes that we need all grow up and act our age. While most people seem to see me as a fairly mature person, there is no doubt that peoples' perception of me will be tinted by the facts that I have not ever owned a house, or been married and had children. I enjoy machines and gadgets and spend a great deal of money on both. Most of my free time is spent seeking out impractical things, often of an intangible, transcendental nature. I have my 401k, some stocks, and a bit of money in savings, but for the most part, people probably see me as fairly stunted or immature in my priorities. But I would argue that their perceptions are more of a problem than my lifestyle.
I have occasionally asked friends for their honest opinion on my lifestyle, and the general consensus seems to be a simultaneous sense of envy and sympathy. On the one hand, I have had people tell me that they envy my freedom and independence. On the other, they seem to see my living situation and relationship history as being pathetic, to put it bluntly. But their perceptions are inherently skewed by elements of social normalization. The accepted thinking is that, at my age, I should want a house, I should be thinking about settling down and raising a family, I should be giving up on the naïve ideals of youth in favor of more practical and realistic hopes and aspirations. Norms dictate that we are not whole, or complete without these things, but norms are little more than benchmarks for individuals who are willing to accept the current concept of "normal", which throughout all human history has been an evolving and transient thing. Normal is a fabrication, as no one actually attains it or lives it, though most claim to seek it out, or be it in their lives. Chasing normal is a fool's errand.
So you give up on normal and norms and do your own thing. What then? In some ways, you come to understand how illusory the idea of "growing up" really is. Most people do not grow up in the commonly accepted sense that they gain wisdom and a deeper understanding. In my experience, most people grow out, physically, and recede mentally. Very few people follow their passions or explore their absolute potential, so the vast majority, the average, typically end up falling short of their hopes and aspirations. They live lives guided by practicality and safety, rather than impracticality and risk. The exploration and curiosity of youth is replaced by a desire for safety and security, and to a great extent, fear of uncertainty.
Of course, this gives them the advantage of relative safety, but in the end, no one is actually safe. Safety, like normalcy, is a fabrication of the mind. Helen Keller has a fantastic quote on this topic and I marvel at her wisdom every time I read it:
"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is a daring adventure or nothing at all."
Without ever seeing or hearing the outside world, Helen Keller attained higher states of education, insight, and wisdom than most able-bodied individuals ever manage. What does that say about the physically capable majority? Their fear and their conformity make them mentally and spiritually weaker than a blind, deaf woman. Helen Keller grew up in every sense of the word, but she never lost the childish idea that life should be an adventure. In my mind, that is the ideal; growing in every significant way without sacrificing a sense of child-like wonder for the world. The classical, Western idea of growing up sounds about as enjoyable and interesting as getting one's teeth drilled sans Novocain. Been there, done that, brush 3 times per day to prevent going back again.
Labels: life or the lack thereof
Monday, May 12, 2008
Edgar Allen Poe
Alone - Edgar Allen Poe
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
A Dream - Edgar Allen Poe
In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed-
But a waking dream of life and light
Hath left me broken-hearted.
Ah! what is not a dream by day
To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
Turned back upon the past?
That holy dream- that holy dream,
While all the world were chiding,
Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
A lonely spirit guiding.
What though that light, thro' storm and night,
So trembled from afar-
What could there be more purely bright
In Truth's day-star?
Labels: poetry
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Animation ist mein fascination
I have all the tools and I am looking into learning how to use them. With any luck, I will be turning my ideas into Flash animations within the next few months. Get ready for hardcore, uncensored, tongue-in-the-butt weirdness...or something really boring that no one ever notices or cares about. Success!!
And now for something that got my attention today...
Labels: video
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Being a thinking animal sucks
I may have it wrong where women are concerned, but I think there is some merit to what I am saying, particularly where the collective sense of self-worth comes up. Generally, by necessity as much by choice, I tend to insulate and keep most of the women I meet at arm's length. In a place like this one, that is the only approach I have found that keeps the type of women I am attracted to at a safe distance. Perhaps that makes me a mess. I don't feel like a mess, but what is or is not a mess is as much a matter of opinion as anything else in this life.
Be that as it may, no matter how alienated or insulated someone becomes, there is always a part of them that desires human contact. As someone who has learned to live with long stretches of minimal or zero contact, that subliminal yearning for touch is one of the most incessant and annoying and distressing parts of the shared human psyche. I don't care how strong your will or resolve, it will be present, and it will make its presence known, like the ache of an arthritic knee. It comes and goes, but its presence is always felt. If not for that continuous ebb and flow, that nagging sensation that never seems to fully fade, I am sure we would all be better off.
Loneliness and the fear of it are the root of so much trouble for so many people. For the needy, it becomes a compulsion which justifies acquiring contact by any means necessary. For the more resolute, it becomes an ever present gorilla in the room with two fistfuls of carpet in its massive hands, always trying to pull the rug out from beneath you. The animal within us is so persistent in its desires and so completely indifferent to our well being that it truly is our greatest shortcoming. Buddhism characterizes such cravings as the greatest threat to our psychological well-being, and I would argue that this is just more proof that the Buddha was very much onto something 500 years before Jesus walked the Earth.
All of this makes a place like Tampa, which is characterized as much by its cultural vacuousness as it is by a lack of any real identity, something of an hostile environment in which to play out life's dramas. Cheap and easy...cheap and easy...everything here seems cheap and easy and superficial and generally dumbed down. Could we live any more Wal-Mart? I just don't get cheap and easy...nothing good comes from cheap and easy...and a big part of the frustration I feel is a result of a maddening desire for change coupled with my inability to willfully transcend the cardboard cutout nature of my surroundings. The lowest common denominator seems to coat this place like plaque on neglected teeth.
Originally, this was going to be a post about the reasons behind my becoming a fan of My Morning Jacket a couple of years back, but it spun out completely. In my mind, the key to My Morning Jacket's power is that they feel free to share some unapologetically awkward and/or goofy lyrics, but say the sorts of things most people are thinking or feeling at one time or another.
My Morning Jacket - Touch Me I'm Going to Scream Part 1
Touch me I'm going to scream if you don't
inside I know we got the feelin' that you won't
I know it sounds confusing
but it makes a lot of sense
row a boat across the ocean
dig a hole under the fence
Touch me I'm going to scream if you don't
inside I know we got the feelin' that you won't
I can tell it by the way you smile
I'm smilin' too, I see myself in you
I can tell by the sounds you make
when you are pleased
you see yourself to me
Touch me I'm goin' to scream if you don't
inside I know we got the feelin' that you won't
how many nights can a soul
so full of life remain untouched
how could a soul make the most of what is whole
and what is here
I need a human right by my side
Untied, untied
I need a human right by my side
Untied, untied
I need a human right by my side
Untied, untied
Labels: life or the lack thereof
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
In hopes of offsetting my bitching and moaning...
A story that speaks to the potential for simple, honest goodness in people. I must admit, reading this made me feel a little bit better about things. From BoingBoing.net:
Last month I took a photo of an honor payment system at a bookstore in Ojai, California. On a related note, here's an article about the City Café Bakery in Kitchener, Ontario, which uses an honor payment system and almost never gets cheated.
City Café doesn’t have Interac or accept credit cards. Neither will you see a cash register in the bakery. Instead, customers add up how much they owe themselves and drop their money into a fare box from an old bus.
“I liked the idea of simplifying things and ... the honour system made a whole lot of sense,” [owner John] Bergen says. “What irritated me about going into Tim Hortons, for example, was waiting in line for something as simple as getting a donut and a coffee. So the thought was, someone can pour his own coffee, grab his own bagel, cut it himself, throw the money in, and walk out. We don’t touch 60 per cent of the transaction.”
Full article here.
Labels: goodness
Rain dance
I have been single for over 2 years now. In and of itself, being single is not a bad thing. As we all know by now, single is my normal and 2 years is not a long time to go without a relationship. Hell, 2 years is just a warm-up, I'm only just starting to stretch my legs! But 25 months is a long stretch of datelessness, even for me, and the unnerving truth is that the longer I go down this road, the wider the divide between myself and modern women becomes.
The aging process begins eliminating options by default. Eventually, no matter how well you take care of yourself, you begin looking older, so early-20-somethings become increasingly out of the question - barring a dramatic rise in income, power, or notoriety. Unfortunately, I have no interest in income, power, or notoriety. On the other hand, women my own age are typically looking to settle down, establish families, and start working on their version of the American "dream", which seems even less appealing to me than dedicating my life to money, power, and/or fame. Rocks and hard places are always a bitch.
So what we have is the sun beating down from above, conspiring to draw the well down to near nothing. I have come to see myself as a caricaturized, aboriginal shaman, dancing and chanting in hopes of inspiring new rain despite the increasingly arid nature of the ground beneath my feet. When I was younger, all the commotion and carrying on was much more enthusiastic. After all, it seemed like rain was always just behind the next gust of wind. Surely, the Fates would bring the rain and chances would always be plentiful! At 20, time seemed to be an ally in the process, you're meeting lots of people, doing lots of things, going lots of places, generally having a good time. The dance is something like the spins of a whirling Sufi, energetic and informed by a subliminal optimism. By 30, time is starting to take on a different character and presence. You learn that time makes no promises beyond its own perpetual motion and that the rain dance yields very little usable precipitation.
At some point, after all this movement has gone on for a while, you might find that you are dancing for its own sake. The belief that rain will come becomes irrelevant, and the dance becomes its own purpose. Of course, the act of fruitless rain-dancing brings its own revelations. You learn to survive without rain, and you begin to understand how much of the available water is acidic. When the rain does come, more often than not weeds grow in abundance - all too rare are healthy, flourishing trees. So the dance has to become an end unto itself, a sort of moving meditation that has less to do with rain than it does with expression, otherwise the shaman finds their knees on the ground, their lips and tongue lapping at a puddle of silt. What good is rain if its only product is shrubbery? What good is drinking gallons of acrid water when all it produces is toxic piss? A single shower of clean, cool, cleansing rain is a greater experience than a continuous drizzle of pollution. Am I crazy for thinking it is better to go thirsty for want of clean water than to surrender one's self to a life of settling for soupy dirt?
Is being alive, living on one's knees, suckling at puddles of mud, better than the alternative? When you stand up triumphantly with your teeth full of grit and your stomach full of silt, are you really winning? I would say no, but opinions vary. Maybe it is a tragedy to seek clear water in a world polluted by contaminants and darkened by muck. Life is short and our opportunities to drink are finite, so the argument goes. But I think it better to die seeking something clean and fresh and clear, than to live with the taste of soil on your tongue and dirt in your guts. The consumer of dirty water might enjoy greater quantities of the stuff, but will they be better for it? I would say no, but opinions vary.
Labels: life or the lack thereof
Saturday, May 03, 2008
More late-night motorcycling
I've written about the late night riding experience before, but it is a topic that always leaves me contemplative. As I have probably said before, riding a motorcycle has not ever been about thrills and "the rush" people talk about. I have no interest in adrenaline infusions or thumbing my nose at the various dangers. Honestly, I am no big fan of late night riding, and try to stay within a few miles of home anytime there is a chance I might find myself on the road in the wee hours. Riding after 11:00 or 12:00 requires one to be doubly vigilant, despite there being far less traffic than normal.
But the late night air always beckons, particularly because there are fewer 4-wheelers to be found in motion over the pavement. The temperatures drop, the sky goes India ink, and the moon takes its post for the night. I have always been a night owl and the late/early hours have held a certain magic for me as long as I can remember. The world seems a more appealing place when most of the people are sleeping. It is quieter in a broader sense than just noise, particularly where the bike is concerned. Florida is an easier place to be during those hours.
Been spending lots of time down at the beach lately. Probably has something to do with phenomenal weather and bikinis, but who knows. :)
Labels: life or the lack thereof