yeah...

I had the weirdest dream about soul snaring circus leaders telling the newly dead to eat their old friends.... Moral of the story: don't go to the post office.

I miss the working the bakery already. It felt so good to work back there, keeping busy, in a lesser supervisored area. I loved doing something so straightforward and productive. Great for a temp position...Now I'm being shuffled off to the cafe, and so far haven't left the best impression as an employee.

My little sister and her friend are begging for the computer (PlleAssee!!! We need to talk to BOYS!).

Ha. I posted however simple.

do compare.

iMac G5:



Wii:



Now:







Logos anyone?

Bastages

The damndest longest online error I've ever run into.

stack trace of outer exception:
com.rsa.csf.clientservice.saml.SamlSsoAssertingPartyServiceBean.throwRightException(Ljava.lang.String;Ljava.lang.String;Ljava.lang.Exception;)V(Unknown Source)
com.rsa.csf.clientservice.saml.SamlSsoAssertingPartyServiceBean.startSso(Lcom.rsa.csf.common.util.FimServletContext;Ljava.lang.String;Ljava.lang.String;Ljava.lang.String;)Lcom.rsa.csf.techservice.saml.common.AssertingPartySsoResult;(Unknown Source)
com.rsa.csf.clientservice.saml.SamlSsoAssertingPartyServiceBean.startSamlAssertingPartySso(Lcom.rsa.csf.common.util.FimServletContext;Ljava.lang.String;Ljava.lang.String;)Lcom.rsa.csf.techservice.saml.common.AssertingPartySsoResult;(Unknown Source)
com.rsa.csf.clientservice.saml.SamlSsoAssertingPartyServiceBean_cc8hya_EOImpl.startSamlAssertingPartySso(Lcom.rsa.csf.common.util.FimServletContext;Ljava.lang.String;Ljava.lang.String;)Lcom.rsa.csf.techservice.saml.common.AssertingPartySsoResult;(SamlSsoAssertingPartyServiceBean_cc8hya_EOImpl.java:158)
com.rsa.csf.clientservice.saml.SamlSsoAssertingPartyServiceProxyClient.startSamlAssertingPartySso(Lcom.rsa.csf.common.util.FimServletContext;Ljava.lang.String;Ljava.lang.String;)Lcom.rsa.csf.techservice.saml.common.AssertingPartySsoResult;(Unknown Source)
com.rsa.csf.application.saml.SamlSsoAssertingPartyServlet.doGe
ogic.servlet.internal.ServletStubImpl$ServletInvocationAction.run()Ljava.lang.Object;(ServletStubImpl.java:971)
weblogic.servlet.internal.ServletStubImpl.invokeServlet(Ljavax.servlet.ServletRequest;Ljavax.servlet.ServletResponse;Lweblogic.servlet.internal.FilterChainImpl;)V(ServletStubImpl.java:402)
weblogic.servlet.internal.ServletStubImpl.invokeServlet(Ljavax.servlet.ServletRequest;Ljavax.servlet.ServletResponse;)V(ServletStubImpl.java:305)
weblogic.servlet.internal.WebAppServletContext$ServletInvocationAction.run()Ljava.lang.Object;(WebAppServletContext.java:6350)
weblogic.security.acl.internal.AuthenticatedSubject.doAs(Lweblogic.security.subject.AbstractSubject;Ljava.security.PrivilegedAction;)Ljava.lang.Object;(Optimized Method)
weblogic.security.service.SecurityManager.runAs(Lweblogic.security.acl.internal.AuthenticatedSubject;Lweblogic.security.acl.internal.AuthenticatedSubject;Ljava.security.PrivilegedAction;)Ljava.lang.Object;(SecurityManager.java:118)
weblogic.servlet.internal.WebAppServletContext.invokeServlet(L

It's longer than that.

I hate walmart inc:

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Lets go fix my w2 at work now that you don't support my forsaken brower accurately.

Now that I'm working at Sam's Club theres one thing I have to say. I gratefully thought that I left drawn out pretentious cheers behind at girls camp isolation functions and high school sports. I couldn't be more off, when your overly dignified manager starts clapping her hands and whooping it gets ------ scary.

There are pictures of Sam Walton slapped everywhere in employee territories,I'd love to know whoever it is that indulges these photo ops and enshrines this guy everywhere I turn. Could be Sammy Walton himself. It starts reminding me of how L. Ron Hubbard is glorifed, sickly posted everywhere and immortalized in nearly every function...

That's it I'm in a retail bulk supplying cult, it's all over. they'll find me in a couple years and enslave my first born with Internet Explorer and require the performing of dark rituals in the name of their beloved buisness Seer, Father Walton.

but your head hurts...

Ghostwriter has been iming me all evening. Proteus, my all in one mac im client is acting up. What happens is I click on the proteus when it says 2 new messages and nothing, just an open screen from unknown. I don't think it's a hack, most likely a program corruption.

I love the new mac commericals, always makes me snicker. I worry that mac may be on the upswing though. Hey, if we're not in the minority and get more mainstream, I need to get myself some virus protection. Crap. The arrogance in the commercials is going to make some nerd spaz out and start throwing wrenches. I know it's already pissing another off to at least threaten to hack. lol. I'll bet Vernon will be on it first.

Heres a thought for you, maybe you're doctor isn't as impartial when you turn your head and cough as you'd like to think. The 'proffesionals' on E.R., Grey's Anatomy, and Scrubs have all sorts of shady backgrounds and kinky needs. So next time, worry, they are hoarding your urine after all processing.
* * *

I miss how everything was last year. I can't believe how well my life fitted. I was kept as busy as a demon, the creative process came so natural. In everything I did I never skipped a beat. Even dull things seemed lively. I mixed up everything I came across, was more daring. I felt most myself. It all happened semi- accidentally, a few elements just tangled up together to make that a good time for me. I feel the difference now, nearly every situation I'm in does the opposite. I feel I'm not aligned as much with what is natural for me, like being off center and doubt spinning all around. I said I wasn't going to be much fun.

I've been grabbing the saddest songs in the world.

I know I'm trying to swing back up from being slammed out of my first place. I never thought I'd be back living in my parents place, school was supposed to be a steady and attainable stream, I thought a lot of things.

--And more from where that came from. How much do I have left to say? To post what I've been thinking would be like tying whoever you are to the back of a pickup and draging down dark country roads for miles. I know what's needed, I'm just a little scared.

someones day went alittle better because I asked one small question. that's something to think about.

"so i ran faster"

Don't play with superglue wearing p.j.s. You're not ready for the chemical reaction. It dried, got really hot on the surface, and smelled like burning.

Sleep would probably be the best course, but then again, it's not quite night to me, it's day. I'll be glad when I can land a job with a stable morning schedule. I feel like it's slowly conjuring my old hermit like state where I don't leave much or see many people at a time. While I think about my friends and aquaintences everyday, I can't find the scheduling or the will to plan out anything.

I need to do something out there, crazy, irrational. I'm slipping into a chaotic routine, making work the epicenter of my day. Something completely out there.... just before I start getting molded by it.

Sometimes I think of things that just loses me. I only know how to stay central, I don't know how to be viewed in certain lights. I'm all too aware of how I come off to people nowadays, occupied, overthinking, slightly nervous. Whether it's the game, the proving at work, or anything inbetween it all. So Whit, what do you say, nothing, or do you even know how?

In the mean time, there's comfort in both the new and old. I think I like Christmas music, makes me feel little and sleepy. And inbetween dreaming and daydreaming, maybe there is a little more freedom out there.

this little blue world upside down

All I really want to do is sit around. And stare off.

And pretend I have something interesting to post about, just as long as I don't have to try and sell you anything. I'm just really glad to be off work. I wonder how long I'm going to last there.

I want to find a new and really sad song. Just kind of one of those moments. Sleep usually makes me happier.

About that.

after a while

I think I know what would be worst about being a nurse treating the many wounded. It wouldn't be the excessive gore, the pained faces, or the pressure that all these people need you. It would be the sounds they make; the groans under their breath, the high shrills from acute pain, hearing hard people weep.

I was woken up early this morning to my mom screaming out after me. I jolted awake hearing her loud shrieking, now I know why they say that screams can be blood curdling. I found her on the floor after she had fallen directly on her shoulder that was just operated on. The worst part was watching her flail on the floor and hearing her tell me I couldn't help her up. I've never heard her make those kinds of screams before, it was a mix of cries and screams and yelps...

She got up by herself not knowing any other way without pulling something. I couldn't even help her up and had to watch her waddle lying on her side and claw the couch to pull herself up. She had me check for bleeding, there was only a little. I did my best to keep her calm, she started hyperventalating.

I just have been thinking about it all day, and I can't detach from it. Shook me up a little.

learning what not

And just when you think that you've got enough
Enough grows
And everywhere that you go in life
Enough knows

Half of learning how to play
Is learning what not to play
And she's learning the spaces she leaves
Have their own things to say
Then she's trying to sing just enough
So that the air around her moves
And make music like mercy
That gives what it is
And has nothing to prove

She crawls out on a limb
And begins to build her home
And it's enough just to look around
To know she's not alone

- up up up up up up from ani di franco

Coffee black and egg white

It's amusing to observe the current insanity pitching a tent in my life. I don't understand how I haven't been pulled down into the undertow. Mostly I'm impartial, it doesn't tag me for very long, or call me out on the stage for anything important.

I remain pretty calm about it, but there's always that undercurrent of anger. That anger towards how unfair so many things are, and how so many just.... deal cause it's the only option they have in these closed systems.

After a long conversation with my dad I just burnt up. I can't believe that so many people live like this... THe very fact that we live in a system that has such a hidden sort of feudalism that it NEEDS to have people slaving away in half assed jobs, the very fact that it's forced on us that we need to be so separated.

I look at my parents, scooping way out of their income to keep things together . She was working herself literally to the bone to keep things going around here. She's paid with her flesh and blood, working past where she's depleted the muscles in her knees and walked only on her ligaments, or had her shoulder muscle slide off from her shoulder bones from repetitive movements... Doing something over and over that causes harm to her...

She's not special, I know so many others like this, literally scraping up any penny being underpaid or uncompensated for the workload.

There's always something to think about. Changing topics now, I wonder if I overstep things, or just underestimate situations. It's hard to say. All I know is it's difficult to know how much understandings of another can really be safely bared without repelling that person. When spoken about, it leaves me feeling a little raw radical, and uncomfortably upfront. I usually prefer to just watch, just appreciate what is, just knowing that I know is enough. But it defeats the point I guess if we always hide.

the 8th

We need the freedom to fail a little more often...
... we need the freedom to make mistakes. Only then can we learn to succeed.
-Judsen Culbreth

I want to walk through life and not be dragged through it.
-Alanis Morrisette

Discovery consists of looking at the same thing as everyone else and thinking something different.
-Rodger von Oech

Preconcieved notions are the locks on the door to wisdom.
-Merry Brown

To give without any reward, or any notice, has a special quality of its own.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh

It is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn
to see the other and honor him for what he is.
-Herman Hesse

I believe in things greater than us that are unexplained. The mysteries of life are so profound; that is why this legend and other kinds of mythology exist. I feel it keeps us human.
-Pellington

It is easy enough to be friendly to one's friends. But to befriend the one who regards himself as your enemy is the quintessence of true religion. The other is mere business.
-Mohandas Gandhi

Never doubt that a small group of thoughful, committed people can change the world. Indeed it is the only thing that ever has.
-Margaret Mead (she's an anthropologist!!! I studied her!!!)

The solution to adult problems tomorrow depends on large measure upon the how our children grow up today. There is no greater insight into the future than recognizing when we save our children, we save ourselves.
-Herman Hesse




It is curious how thoughts behave. They elude me in a crowd. Like spirits, they must be spoken to in silence before they will explain themselves.
-Helen Keller

People spend a lot of time looking for perfection-- the perfect child, the perfect self. They don't exist-- not in this life. But the difficulties we have are to help us grow. We need to embrace them rather than resist them. It's the process thats important.

- Ms. de Azevedo


and this... interesting subject and someone just told me there is a whole documentary on this subject, subject being after finding alien life in space may bring us to better reevaluate ourselves as living, moral beings. This is an experiemental letter to ETs on this subject.


______
TO: OCCUPANT (Please Forward if Necessary)
LIMITED-TIME OFFER-- SEE INSIDE FOR DETAILS

Dear Alpha,

I hope you won't mind if you I call you that, after Alpha Centauri, one of our regular-yellow-star neighbors. I could call you Zeta, after Zeta Reticuli, to cover the bases, but I like Alpha, Aleph, the beginning: This could be the start of a beautiful relationship.

First off, I know we're the new kid on the block. The Hubble might as well be the Humble for what it's shown us about were we fit in the big picture: a miniscule pin stuck into a map of infinity (You Are Here); a pale blue-green speck in a vertiginous, star-spackled Vast. It's been a corrective lens for human astigmatism.

Our astronomers say we're just one of hundreds of millions of habitable planets. And that 75 percent of the stars in our galaxy's temperate zone are older than out sun, meaning you could be our big brother ten millions years ahead in birth order (so much for sibling rivalry). I bet we remind you of yourselves back when you were young and full of mischief; didn't you once go around stockpiling weapons of mass destruction, extinguishing your fellow creates, soiling land, water and air like there's no tomorrow? (If you're reading this you had a tomorrow and I can't tell you how encouraging I find that.)

If we can nearly see you now, you've already spotted us. Maybe you've homed in our planet's most visible artificial landmark, the Great Wall of China, having no doubt there's belligerent -- I mean, *intelli*gent!-- life down here. Sort of: our really largest man made features are the clouds of smoke from burning rainforests, the bone white of dying corals reefs, the leaching tan of encroaching deserts--ultra large-scale public art installations whose theme, I suppose is our lack of love for each other, for ourselves, and for our fellow beings.

I try to imagine what kind of beings you are. Maybe you'd appear to us as superevolved lizards or cerebral fish; as the magenta-winged offspring of clever birds or the brainy descendants of great cats. Some of the creatures we're carelessly extinguishing might remind you of home probably doesn't give you much confidence about inviting us to dinner. (I'll assume you're too evolved to want us for dinner.)

On the off-chance you've snagged our Pioneer's golden tablet, you know what we look like. (Hint: We're the bipeds on the right, not that rectangle-thing in the middle.) I hope you enjoyed the Solomon Island agrams of our anatomy (we'll show you ours if you show us yours). But we forgot to put our best foot forward. The geniuses who put that parsec-traipsing pinata together left out the good stuff, like somthing called the Sermon on the Mount ("Do good to them that hate you" --how's that for a starter?) ; to say nothing of the Dhammapada, the Mishnah, the Mathnawi of Rumi, the Tao Te Ching, the Upanishads, and lots more where those came from.

I could summarize by saying we get it: each of us a thread, woven by universal affinity, in the tapestry of the Great Whole. We could ace the written portion of the galactic entrance exam; it's the practicum we'd flunk. We can sense there comes a point when an intelligent species gets so smart it's too clever by half, and the only possible way through is the evolutionary bottleneck-- what I expect you did -- is just to pop the cork of universal love. Love each other, love the planet; love madly, with no fear, without restraint. our sci-fi writers always envision you with really big heads; but if you've made it any further than we have, you must have gigantic hearts. I like to imagine you can feel the invisible waves and fluxes flowing between creatures as directly as we feel each other's warmth and breath and pulse. ( Our nonverbal signals to each other are relatively crude-- even an octopus blushes more expressively, in more colors. Too often we're left guessing at each other's feelings, getting it all wrong.)

Speaking of feelings, as I write these words, I feel far away not just from your world, wherever it is, but from my own. It steals over all six billion of us from time to time; a moment we say silently to ourselves, how can we? how can we let each other suffer so; how trash our Garden; how can we not take care of everyone's children? We're going through a terribly awkward phase, that's for sure, and taking our own sweet time coming out of it. We're just figuring out how to talk to each other and, more importantly , how to listen. (That's what that great dish at Arecibo* really symbolizes -- a big human eardrum.)

Now we're all abuzz that mass communications have created some kind of planetary nervous system, an awakening bud of self-consciousness- the Global Brain. But you're probably awaiting a bigger development -- the Global Heart. Maybe you're already scanning the heavens with your intergalactic stethoscopes, listening for coherent heart murmurs among the pulsars; for what the Little Prince (was he one of your guys?) said was essential but invisible to the eye. If your instruments can detect that spectrum, then you've seen more than our great walls-- you've seen through the cracks to all our small kindnesses. You know us not as the Planet of the Super Clever Apes, but the Planet of the Angels in Training.

We are growing beyond our Big Blue Marble phase, when we first looked in the mirror and recognized an Us. Now we're ready for relationship: We're looking for an Other, someone to start an I-Thou relationship. At the same, we're realizing maybe there is no Other. We know that, strictly speaking, everything started out as a dot of quantum fuzz, expanding into a universe in a fraction of a second (1/10 to the 25th power, we figure). Way Back When , it was all stuck together, a single agglomerated substance of One. So if nonlocality is true-- if each mote that's been in contact with another stays so forever, then the stardust we are and you are and everything is remains in some state of unbreakable entanglement. Call it the Cosmic Mirror Neuron. Or as one of our great Earth poets, William Blake, put it: Thou canst not stir a flower without disturbing a star.

Not that we mean to (disturb you, that is, with all our flower-stirring). It's just that for so long, we've been the frog at the bottom of the well, thinking our little round patch of sky was the universe. Six hundred years ago, our religions were still telling us the Earth was the center of Creation; and now the Hubble vistas are out stained-glass windows.

We know you're out there, somewhere. But until we hear from you, the stars look lovely, bright and cold. A famous biologist -- a winner of our great Peace Prize, no less--- once looked through a telescope and pronounced "Man at last knows he is alone in the unfeeling immensity of the universe." You'd probably have a good laugh over that one. Not just the alone part-- the Unfeeling part. The universe must be agog with feeling: How else could it have given birth to such deeply feeling progeny? This irresistible urge to reach out to you is a sign of our gregariousness; of our desire -- our profligacy--to make relatives. We're ready to dive into the cosmos heart-first.

We've seen the nurseries of light where suns are spawned in searing fire. We've trembled at the roiling black hole at the center of the Milky Way, gobbling up stars like TicTacs. We know that life's job is coherence, attraction; that entropy already has all the help it needs.

The point is, dear Alpha, dear cipher in the inky void: We'll make it through, just in the nick of time.

By the time this reaches you, millennia will have passed. But if we're still here to receive your reply, we'll be home free. Heck, if we manage to find a steady source of dilithium crystal, we may land on your doorstep to accept it in person -- all spruced up , hair slicked back, nice smile (not showing too many teeth), with a little gift for the Missus or the Mister or the Little Spores. We may even have a thing or two to teach you.

Maybe we already do. I've enclosed an attachment, the diamond words seers (and not incidentally, the newest findings of our scientists) translated into the universal harmonic language by some galactic goodwill ambassadors called the Beatles:

All you need is love. (You can trust me on this.)

Very Truly Yours,

A Friend

P.S. Please send a formula for neutralizing spent plutonium, the schematics for superluminal drive and a design for a cellophane free CD case? Thanks!

---Marc Ian Basarch

angry johnny

soooooooooooooo

hi. I'm back, I just quit in August and now I want to work production, some other job has driven my brains out from my earlobe faster than you ever could. we could skip the interview.

or that's what I'm tempted to do, skip back to the first red vest I ever had.

I got THREE forsaken writeups today. Thanks. No really thanks, I appreciate it. It's only my first week on the floor. So when I signed each one, I made my signature really ugly. On purpose. Take your tax exempt form and stick it...

Good thing I didn't come when they called me in yesterday. Hi we just called you in on your day OFF on HALLOW freaking WEEN, Oh yeah, here's your writeups.

This is going to make me old. Fast.

I thought I was going to bed.

When I talk about my innerworkings, it sounds strange. Mostly because people don't usually go in as indepth as to explain every little personal symbol or perception.

I can only hope that it doesn't come across tainted, misconstrued, or frightened. It's just flat out honesty that I am trying to provide, but I'm not used to speaking that upfront at such lengths and without defenses. But if I was scared of how I sound, I wouldn't say it at all. It's not that I am nervous that I will make an impression, it just that i want to leave something that's closest to the truth.

There is a lot of thinking that's involved, editing, reviewing before I say anything which is a habit. Partially because I remember vividly most every indepth personal conversation I have with someone. As such I get a little awkward when I know it could be going down in the records books. the ironic advice I give to myself "act natural" just doesn't cut it.

I still don't know why I become so shy when I explain my views around you, probably out of respect, and in those situations I only know how to observe not how to involve myself.

It just doesn't come with ease. All that bullshit you can look through
and find all these shy strings of reason braiding together in a thick cord is a big reason why I see what I do in you.

Just more and more I find myself shy about these things and my own thoughts. I can speak my mind and about myself and my ways when I'm seeing red and mortally pissed off or in casual conversation, but not so well in an upfront purpose. It's new territory.

right on.

So I'll be talking about this alot, and probably other gaming elements.

One thing I find humorous is newbs trying to act like they're long serving experts.
Not the case. I'm just really interested in running the Sailor Moon rpg for old times sake.

I was skeptical of the Guardians of Order version of it, looked too based on the crucified dub but not until I read this. I am impressed by other guardians of order makings and will buy the BESM

One of the writers of the rpg guide talks about making it. And I loved the last part, exactly the point i'm trying to make about women used as glamor items to display things on game shows.

I bring this up not to be all like yeah I'm in the gaming world. Not really, I'm barely introduced to it. But this hard ass lassie and her experience in making this and other rpgs is really making it cool for me. I can see why she took on SM, very female solider based, and far far from the typical 'save me' Rapunzel shit or the polar opposite typecastings like Electra, Lara Croft, which scream 'do me'. Though I appreciate that heroines have becoming more popular and sought after, I don't apprieciate that they are, more often than not, created for supercharged sensual appeal.

cited from here

All of our books have examples of play that use female names as well as male names and the females are not only restricted to roles as players but are also portrayed as GMs as well. We have also used names that are popular in diverse ethnic cultures, such as Isaac, Devinder, and Thea, to name a few. Mark insists that text referring to characters or players directly must have "him or her" as the pronoun and not the more popular word "them" or "they". For example, a sentence would read, "A character can run at ten times his or her normal speed." instead of "A character can run at ten times their normal speed." Everyone recognizes that although not the majority, people other than white, male Americans role-play and we try to be inclusive of them in our products.

My biggest challenges usually involve people outside of the company who do not value the work and role of women. Some people automatically assume that simply because I am a woman, I could not have had a larger role than play-tester with our products. They do not take me seriously or find it hard to believe when I tell them my title and role in the company. Some men have made inappropriate remarks about my gender as well as my body or looked at me inappropriately. This is not surprising, considering the average portrayal of women in the industry, but it signals to me that although many products are justified as "intended to be fun" or "not taken seriously", many people do indeed take them seriously, cannot separate reality from fantasy, and believe that it is an appropriate manner in which to relate to females in the real world.

Another obstacle that I face happens during the con season when I have to walk into the dealer's room, and I am confronted with rows upon rows of images of women of unparalleled beauty, disproportionately endowed with perfect bodies. I have found myself feeling unattractive and inadequate next to these icons and there are times that I have to remind myself that this is not true and that the women portrayed in these images are not real and are anatomically impossible.

Despite all of this, overall I am happy to be working in this industry, especially with the people at Guardians of Order. I believe that women can be successful and influential in the male-dominated world of gaming. There is still a long way to go before the image of the scantily-clad female will be balanced with an equally revealing image of a male, but with every female we draw into this market signals the tides are changing.

Cool.

ignorance is piss

I just like it. Naiveities day spa and parlor really could blind the world. It's not bliss, it's stagnation if you choose to wallow.

Trying to talk, discuss made someone scream out and storm off again. I don't like naming names and try to be a little better by not pointing out names but it's obvious. I just get tired.

But all that at the simple suggestion we need to talk more as a family?

I get tired of ignorant adults having fits and me being put into positions where I need to pick up slack. After she slammed her door shut I walked downstairs sputting out that I need to move out again.

Just because I want to look at things that aren't going so okay doesn't make me vicious. The very fact that I speak independently gets me written out as provoking and off the deep end.

My dad empathized, totally agreed with me, but just said, 'you know you can't say things she doesn't like. There's no way we can win, you're always wrong. I've told you a million times to suck it up, just pretend it isn't there We almost divorced over it'. Something in his eyes looked like using the div word again was unbearable. still. "I haven't been able to pretend like that for a long, long time, and I can't go back.' I told him I said nothing wrong,nothing to provoke, his response I know, I know! believe me I know.

I can leave... but it seems like he has nowhere.

not like that...

We all know those crazy fill in the blank games to make even crazier stories. Example: Suzie Anne took angry (noun)s to town (verb)ing after the rusty shagwagon over the (adjective) (noun) last Tuesday.

The ad in the magazine Lindsey snatched had one of these... I didn't do it...

"Kay. name a adjective, ok a verb, k a noun"

"Crispy... um. sky dive, and uh Bill Clinton."

Which became:

There's nothing like a 'crispy' walk to 'skydive' your 'Bill Clinton'.

Palingenesia

I flick through the news channels, through the cartoons, half ass watching whatever sitcoms airing, or passing up mulchy morning soap operas (unless its the middle of a catfight), when I get curious about the ways of the television set. I like the commericials second best.

What I like first is the mixtures of content that I see. So many different things are presented, and hell just are able to be presented electronically, virtually anywhere. I was thinking that I liked that.

Right now I'm jamming along to Billy Joels hit, 'We Didn't Start the Fire'. 40% for creative and now classic musicality (omg it IS a word ) 60% for content. I likes it muchly. Greater even since it notes a lot of this part of the world's free radicals, all those crazy controversies that people have all sorts of reactions to.

Ain't it wonderful?

I think most people have been asked, or wondered when and where they'd best have been born in. I used to love that question, I didn't feel that these times bordered on what I wanted to see of life, where being too smart was considered a social flaw.

"Reinisance period" was the response I'd jut out, hoping to not sound like some cliche coffee house bench warmer. It was a time when Europe was questioning the foundations and the integrations of the church, the government, the culture (and everything that insisted the three were and should be all the same) were questioned, reevaluated. "... but only if I was a man would I be able to enjoy it then, in the way that I would want to observe it."

But not too long ago, walking down a busy road and running my finger through chainlinked fences, it hit me---what if, what if I wasn't born in the wrong time?
Why not here, now? Here is also important.

Society now, look at it and where ours fits in with the rest of the world, or simply (or unsimply) where we correspond into either. i think about the problems of todays world (at least through the scope of this society) The complexity and wide ranges of issues being faced-- excites me. Why?

There's so much to get caught up in, and as such, it's hard to find a dull moment in this countries events. There are a lot of opportunities in this modern world. There's a lot of disbelief these days here, in many things. Ways for ideas to be passed on are being utilized everyday. Todays kids are getting forced on them the larger issues their parents tackled all their lives, but I see so many being forged by such dilemmas. Homeland crimes are getting scary, making us wonder if there is some sort of pitfall in our society? People don't always agree but now have the right to disagree and what dangerous or honorable things they do with that power. Politics are becoming increasingly divided and heated as we try to map out what the core of order and logic is. How about how we are allowed and encouraged to be our own persons, and the pros and cons of that being such a highlight in our culture? How about our accelerated lifestyles and economy that we dwell in?

Life is getting easy to pass by, and it is asking more and more for attention to detail. With the rushed pace that we live in here, with all the various things that demand our attention, it seems like we are moving on to a higher level which asks for more of ourselves. It is a time to rise, not pretend the world is broken and unsuited for us.


"... schism in the soul, schism in the body social, will not be resolved by any scheme of return to the good old days (archaism), or by programs guaranteed to render and ideal projected future (futurism), or even by the most realistic, hardheaded work to weld together again the deteriorating elements. Only birth can conquer death-- the birth, not of the old thing again, but of something new. Within the soul, within the body social, there must be-- if we are to experience long survival-- a continuous "recurrence of birth" (palingenesia) to nullify the unremitting recurrences of death. For it is by means of our own victories, if we are not regenerated, that the work of Nemesis is wrought: doom breaks from the shell of our very virtue. Peace then is a snare; war is a snare; change is a snare; permanence is a snare. Whe our day is come for the victory of death, death closes in; there is nothing we can do, except be crucified-- and resurrected; dismembered totally, and then reborn." -Joseph Campell

No, we didn't start the fire. But we're not just going to fight it, we're going to kindle it, and hopefully be passed through it a few times.

Troubles of today are wide and many. We are imparting from traditional methods of learning and thinking. Society here is becoming very decentralized and I would say getting the opportunity to evolve, instead of revolving around just one source. More and more it seems humanity is not disintegrating because of all this, but widening it's lens on scoping out long hidden truths.

Not any part of it is an easy thing to label, and this is what with I fell in love.
Why am I so taken with right now- Todays beautiful complexity and the ability that today has that has never been had to be able to invite such.
(though english is not my best fit of language, I seem to syntax every sentence without mention of subjective context)


"Just when you think you've got it down
Watch it fly" thank Shawn Colvin's song 'Trouble' for the clippit, helps to explain what I am trying to say. It's getting harder to completely know something nowadays. We can no longer afford to take our definitions for granted or as uneditable. We must be open for evaluting things at all times in our lifes. Now more than ever we are being called to live with our lives, our eyes, our minds, and our hearts open. Wide open and constantly scoping.


-------------------------------------------
And reminding me of all of this, I want to throw in a song I never listened to before. Apology already given to those who are sensitive to profanity, however I feel it was done for creativity's sake, especially the deliberate use of contrasting images in this song, and invitation of contrast and the right to disagree.

Amen-

I'm siphoning gas from the high school bus
Into the tank of my beat-up bug
So I can drive away from the shouting and misery
I drive into the night, to the hill, to the water tower
To lie on my back and drink in the meteor shower
Knowing that many men have lain as i do now
Ptolemy,Copernicus,Carl Jung
Pondering his existence,pondering,
Is God with me now?

And I look to the sky
And I ask these questions
Yes,I feel something I don't understand
Can somebody say Amen?

My life is but a short and precious seed
Like three seasons of life in a leaf on a tree
And when I cascade to the ground I will not be done
I will mingle with the earth and give life
To the roots again

Can somebody say Amen?

And I look to the sky
And I ask these questions
Yes, I feel something I don't understand
Can somebody say Amen?
Amen for the drivers in their garbage trucks
Amen for our mothers,for the lust to fuck
Amen for the child with innocent eyes
Amen for Kevorkian and the right to die
Amen for NASA,The NSA
It's all a front anyway
Amen for Marilyn Manson,Saddam Hussein
Amen for America and the Milky Way.
Amen for Elvis,for Betty Page
Amen for Gloria Steinham and Ronald Reagan
Amen for O.J.,Clinton too
Amen for the Republican witch hunt coup
Amen for Gandhi,for Malcolm X
Amen for the uprising of the weaker sex
Amen for Babylon, the third world's call,
Amen for the unity of us all
Amen,Amen,Amen

And I am not unique.
We are all leave on this great big tree.
this tree that is life,that is God,that is you,that is me
And I lie under my tree like the Buddhas before and after me
And I ask the stars, What for?
Yes, I feel something I can't explain
A light that flickers off and on again
And I look to the sky
And I ask these questions
Yes, I feel something I don't understand
Oh,can somebody say Amen?

-Paula Cole

Shroud

I had to leave the house of fashion
And go forth naked from its doors
'cause women should be allies
And not competitors
I had to leave the house of god
Because the cross replaced the wheel
And the goddesses were all out in the garden
With the plants that nurture and heal

I had to leave the house of privilege
Spend christmas homeless and feeling bad
To learn privilege is a headache
That you don't know that you don't have
I had to leave the house of television
To start noticing the clouds
It's amazing the stuff you see when
You finally shed that shroud

I had leave the house of conformity
In order to make art
I had to be more and less true
To learn to tell the two apart
I had to leave the house of fear
Just about as soon as I could crawl
Ignore my face on a wanted poster
Stuck to the post office wall

I had leave the house of self-importance
To doodle my first tattoo
To realize a tattoo is no more permanent
Than I am, and who
ever said that life is suffering
I think they had their finger on the pulse of joy
And the power of transcendence
Made its grace a practice we can employ

- Ani DiFranco from "Reprieve" album

snow duke

My family and I went up to the mountains today. I overenjoyed myself. We went way way way up where the snow is.

Couldn't help myself, here's my first snowman of the year! Took it on my dad's phone.

:D!

cuckoo?

Firstly, I am listening to Chickenman. The images the title insinuates has little to do with the song. Good stuff but a little experiemental.


I know if a black cat crosses your path, beware, your best luck may not follow or so the superstition goes. Now what do you do if a black CHICKEN crosses your path? What if now, not only a black chicken crosses you, but a white chicken follows like some freaky ying yang shindig? As if this duo isn't weird enough imagine the roaming fowl crossing the road. They were like racing chickens or something, white won.

Now I know that I did hear a chicken the other day when Lindsey and I were hooking up the volleyball net. I heard the neighborhood tykes screaming "GET the CHICKEN, Get him!" "Cabawk Bacaw bacaw bacaaaaaaaaaw! Balk balk baulkcaw!!!" All of them sounded like junior agents for Colonel Sanders. Holy crap.

Derek and Lindsey also go around the house singing and miswording the song 'Malchik gay' as My Chicken.

And then I play zelda and the bird fiends surround me in Hitchcock patterns.

Is this a sign?

Black Thumb );(

" oh i'm not worried, remember.

it's not about whether or not i think i'm making sense, it's a matter of "is that what i meant to say?". "

Just a little snippet from a convo with my ol pal Katie. Good words to keep in mind.

It's not really advice I think of in daily life, just a few choice situations where i seem to give off a split image of myself.

On another offshoot... I'm far from expectations. I know that already. I won't take any normal earning, nor some frivilous extraordinary title. Theres just less and less to prove.

Yes, Ms. DiFranco, 'everyone is an f*king Napoleon.' Excuse the language but the statement is classic.

I forgot how much I love long bus rides. I love being amongst unknown faces, I peek around at all the expressions people have at their faces. Some grumble down at their watches, others stare out the window. A lot of people are lost in their own heads when they are parked in their blue cushioned bus seats. It's interesting. Sometimes I think I am able to pick out a few hippiesque people like me that could drive if they chose, but are into alternative transportation methods. My brother, Derek, is urging me to make a collection of all the odd people I see on UTA. I sketch people occasionally, usually people who fall asleep in the front. It just tickles him.


On a sidenote I am tearing out my hair trying to reformat my blog. I've already composed a new design for it, but making the images and backgrounds is the easy part. Sheesh. Xanga was very easy to crack with a basic feel for html. Blogger uses xml for its templates which is a bit tricker to overlap, not really knowing what I'm doing.

Oui, the things I think about at night. Night, when there's nothing left to do than just soak in the silence and think. Laughable, private thoughts fill my mind, just like stupid little pennies in a city park fountain. Why did Icarus fly so far, so hard? *laughs* It's not just motor fuel that's overpriced these days. I'm sure Pandora would love to know why we all ask for more than we're ready to get.

Just the things I tell myself these days.

New Favourite

This is such a beautiful song... Even better when heard.

Everything in it's own Time

and when the winds have blown things round and back again
what was once your pain will be your home

all around the table the white haired men have gathered
spilling their sons' blood like table wine
remember everything i told you
everything in its own time

the music whispers you in urgency
hold fast to that languageless connection
a thread of known that was unknown and unseen seen
dangling from inside the fifth direction


boys around the table are mapping out their strategies
kings all of mountains one day dust
a lesson learned a loving god and things in their own time
in nothing more do i trust

we own nothing
nothing is ours
not even love so fierce it burns like baby stars
but this poverty is our greatest gift
the weightlessness of us as things around begin to shift


remember everything i told you
keep it in your heart like a stone
and when the winds have blown things round and back again
what was once your pain will be your home

everything in its own time
everything in its own time
-Indigo Girls

lolli sculptures

So okay there were a lot of dum dum suckers floating around the house. (No really like floating like the fuzzy sparkles in the Kokiri Forest) When I opened it I was like -- odd! Whooah -you look like a turtle! Look at it!!! It's even fluked being a real dum dum. Drooping and bent, I mean wow, maybe it's just a big frown.

Okay my brain, is dying. That usually means its just asking for a smidgeon of sleep. If not I'd be so posting about my awesome cool day. Sorry its late but soo everything is amusing.XD. Alas. Tiredness, I have a strict bedtime of 2 am.

"You looked better on myspace"

Whha---

Is Sarah McLachlan releasing a new album? I thought she was done, wanted to raise her kid and all. It will be an album of Christmas carols, so like for the first time in all of history we'll be able to hear every track on a newly released album on the radio within its release month. Cool though, though I am not an active seeker of Christmas music.

Let's tackle Halloween first! I WANNA MAKE A JACKOLANTERN!!!!!!

The title is from a tee shirt which I find amusing. ※

I think my big thing against myspace is it is completely engineered around the teenaged mind. All the commercial ads cluttered among the margins, gimmie a break. There is such a large emphasis on user photos, and advertising the photo and preferences to the point where it seems more and more like some online dating hotspot than a blogging community. Half the pictures of the girls on my space are ones where they try to look at the camera as with as sexy a look as they can come up.
It completely caiters to the teenage mind, where what mostly matters is the bands you like, the people you hang with, favorite color, pet peeves etc is splattered all over your front user page. Such things are common in profiles, but then again profiles will cover a little more than that, or a little less, the difference is in the coverage of the interests.

Interests are key elements to illustrating a profile, but when pictures of those interests such as sports team emblems, banners for television shows and movies, not album work but portraits of favorite bands COMPLETELY take over the page with JPEG space with little text at all? It's overcrowded with all these glorified media influences that say little about who the person is (except for music) and it all quickly becomes cliche. It completely enshrines these media influences, and favorites and piss offs making everything so overblown. Sheesh. Not to mention paying homage to the teen mindset of clan associations, who I am hanging round with these days (cause company *hem* groups, say(s) so much about a person, whatever) a pretty sizeable corner to keep all your friends on your list in.

Elements of a my space profile

1- Personal Photo. This is big stuff. Smile big, you never know who is checking you out.
2- third party Interests and commercial Interests consuming your page. these things rock, "johnny dep is the best ever and I love abercrombie and fitch"
3- Extensive photos and images to represent Interests (instead of words God forbid we ever use them to explain why we are drawn to what we are drawn to)
4- Ads for teen appealing media, and merchandise - tv Shows, music, ex" Jackass epidsodes, name brands etc.
5- League of Friends- Always always always reserve a little shrine to say hey these peeps are kewl and they think I'm kewl so yeah.

Leave the rest of the page for your turn ons.

I will agree that this is a reliable channel for communication purposes. While I have met some who have used it purely for open discussion, it seems more and more like a chaotic mosh pit where all the little teenie bopper warlords have a good yak all about themselves (but more about the thinks they like). ( I HATE YOU I HATE THE BANDS YOU LIKE!!! starts to make sense in this light, no?) I could keep in touch with many a friend via my space if I chose to. I just don't like what myspace attempts to target with its features, and what it is commonly used for. And for all those people hounding me to join it's not all that jazzed up in my eyes.

No no no, I shalt not join.

interesting...

http://www.abhota.info/end1.htm

A timeline of all the public apocalyspe claims.

"Time to check your level of responsibility?"

This is a clipping out of the morning paper today. I like to occasionally gut something out of the middle that is everyday life oriented. It's fun.



These are some of the things I HAVEN'T done recently.


1.Returned "Search and Destroy" by Dean Hughes to the library.
2.Responded to e-mails from several good friends, including Linda in Ohio an Patty in Indiana. (I'm sorry you guys! I promise I'll write back!)
3. Made arrangements for a groom's dinner (can you believe it? ANOTHER son is getting married!) , even though the wedding is coming up pretty soon.
4. Paid a bill to my favorite florist, Every Blooming Thing, for flowers I sent in July.
5. Returned a phone call to Glenn at BYU. (Glenn! Dude! My husband wants me to tell you that he really did give e your message. It's not HIS fault that I haven't called back in the last two weeks.)
6. Washed my son's football uniform. (i've just been burning scented candles in his bedroom instead.)

These are some of the things that I HAVE done recently.

1. Found a parking ticket on my windshield because the meter was expired, to which I can only say, OF COURSE THE METER WAS EXPIRED. I never put change in the meter to begin with.
2. Forgot Emma's birthday even though she's pretty much the daughter I never had, which is apparently why God never sent me girls. He knew I'd just forget their birthdays and then they;d be all like "our mother is so lame."
3.Lost the family parrot. After 12 years of doing penguin-esque belly flops off the top of his cage, our African gray finally discovered that his wings work. Yea! That's the good news! The bad news is that he was outside on the deck when he figured things out. The other bad news is that I was the one who left him out there.

Anyway, as you can see, it's been an eventful few weeks in a nonproductive kind of way. In fact, I was sort of startled this morning when I made up these lists, because, actually, I think of myself as a highly responsible person. Hello. My girlfriend Gigi Ballif and I were members of the Color Guard in the sixth grade, which, AS EVERYBODY IN AMERICA KNOWS, they only let highly responsible kinds do. The last thing you wan ti n the Color Guard are a bunch of non-responsible six-graders who don't show up or forget their hats or wear their badges upside down or drop the flag on the ground all day long.

Looking at my lists, however, makes me wonder if it's time to do an update so that self-image matches the reality at hand. Is it possible I'm not responsible any more? Do I need to get a paper route to teach myself some responsibility again?

Is it possible I've turned into that guy who still wears double-knit slacks with a white belt because they looked good on him, and also on Joe Namath, in 1974, and he thinks they look good on him still? (ANSWER : No. I'm not a guy. And I don't have a pair of double-knit slacks.)

All of us occasionally out to do a self-awareness exercise. Do my actions say I am who I think I am? Am I REALLY (fill in the blank)?
It can't hurt, right?
(Unless, of course, you think you're a lost cause.)
(Which you are probably not.)
(Even if the teachers didn't choose YOU to be in the Color Guard in the sixth grade.)


-Ann Cannon

Ugly Little Dreams

Frances keep your mouth shut dear
We don't want the neighbors 'round
With their ugly little schemes
That make the pretty world go 'round
And there's a place in it for every one of us
I'll keep the home fires burning
Only don't make a fuss

And if you're not impressed
With the wares life has to show
You can take them or leave them
They choose their own fare who say no
There's some ugly little dreams
For pretty girls to buy
It's enough to make you mad
But it's safer just to break down and cry
It's a battlefield Frances
You fight or concede
Victory to the enemy
Who call your strength insanity

What cahnce for such girls
How can we compete?
In a world that likes its women
Stupid and sweet

I bet you rue the day
The angels gave you your share
Of bright cornflower blue eyes
And golden hair
And there's a lot of ugly little dreams
For pretty girls to buy
It's enough to make you mad
But it's safer just to break down and cry
It's safer just to break down and cry

-Everything but the Girl

------------------

EBTG has been a band I've kept up with over the years. What created the interest was their dynamic sound, investment in many instruments, and the leads powerful vocals. What kept the interest was what the lyrics touched on - ethics and rights within relationships, political commentary, and largely on the human experience.

Looking information up on EBTG, I ran into their focuses on their debut album which was pretty much what I described above.

Ugly little dreams is about those who were shocked and upset by women with too many ideas.

It's about Frances Farmer in particular. That struck interest -- who is she I asked and wikied it. What I found proved interesting... Frances in her youth won a writing contest in 1931, for her religiously controversial essay. Later when she was attending university won over another writing contest for a leftist newpaper. (which was probably moderate compared to these days) this won her a trip to go visit the Soviet Union which her family fiercely objected to.

Frances began an acting career in the big screen pictures. She was very unhappy with her career as she was only given 'pretty girl' and damsel like roles, instead of ones where she could find a creative niche with her talents. It was a time when movie studios were very controlling of their actors and actresses lives. As a result she clashed a lot with the buecracy within Paramount Studios refusing to mold.

I can't continue to depict her as a struggling artist and put her up as a complete martyr of her times. The trouble she got in later was of her own accord, as she developed heavy drinking problems. Her little incident with the police was interesting though during war time when all lights were ordered for a black out period. She went rebeliously driving down the road with her brights on. Then there is breaking her make up artists jaw (I would have loved to have been present) . Yet her contrary views led "proffessionals" to diagnose her with bipolar disorder, for her seeking things outside of accepted culture.


I do like her story though and it winds down to a comment by Ray Bradbury. "a man runs when he sees anything of a mind in a woman." (rough quote, I have handicapped quoting skills as I am sure one of you can verify in other situations) Thankfully this quote doesn't ring so true anymore, almost minus certain communities where women are ordained to be baby cranking factories. Yet it did bring a smile to my face, it does sometimes touch home minus the gender references and added in particular family references.


"I bet you rue the day
The angels gave you your share
Of bright cornflower blue eyes
And golden hair"

is a very interesting couple of lines from the song, I think. It has something to say on what is expected of women when it comes to men and the crowds for that matter.

I've had many a friend who felt overwhelmed by trying to gain attentions of the opposite gender. Many friends who felt that her worth was contingent on her ability to be attractive, and to be worthwhile. To be charming and sucumbing to prevalent demands for a girl to be entertaining. Well dammit those things aren't just about being pleased or entertaining. I've seen too many girls who don't find enough esteem in themselves and become dependent on whatever kind of security a relation with a guy can give her. Though it's not just ungrounded and self insecured girls that cling to this.

However I feel the opposite is true. I feel there is an underculture of women who are obsessed with glamour, power and manipulation over partners. Yet they still cling to the demand to be a particular genre of charming and entertaining outside of standard (by standard I mean common things like courting flirting and means to relations and such, what I mean is the whole charming thing is getting overblown.)

Bottom line: we shouldn't be expected to be any more diplomatically and dynamically charming than what is natural, than what men are (not to say that men and the stake of natural are directly synonymous or opposing). It's not duty to be pretty attractive alpha vixens contrary to what pop culture is trying to tell us all. I'd love to see pop culture grow in insight for once...

And I could go on about how the teen to adult road is practically non existent and how we still have 37 year old men and women who are paranoid about their upkeep on trendiness, acting and wishing they could be as hip as they were when they were 18. Hey what about other things of worth? We just generating lifelong super hormone charged teenagers nowadays?

How cute. . .

Even in these modern times excessive prerequisites for a woman to even be considered as attractive are too heavy. Sorry we're not all about acting pretty, and believe me what a sad act it is. Sorry to say there is something more between the lines there. I realized a sad truth when joking around with my younger brother. "Derek, this is sooo sad, you could have a guy be really ugly, obese, or freakishly skinny, who is the funniest and fun person ever and he could get a lot of dates. But if you turn it around and it's a heavy girl, or a not so cute faced kind of girl and she's left with slim pickins. if not dying alone" "yup" and we both laughed.

Yet why is this true?

Watching a television makeover show I was taken aback by a couple. There was a well built man with what most women would claim as being handsome faced and a mousy faced bushy haired girl who wasn't very easy on the eyes as some would say. It was very odd to see this couple hand in hand. I was a little confused by the fact that I was confused. Yet it's not nearly that startling when you see a girl go with a guy that is far far from being the next runner up for male model of the year. I couldn't explain the confusion at first, but then I realized more and more that its a sick and unfair part of our culture.

I walked past as my dad was watching Miss Congeniality on t.v. (great movie !) one of the pagent officials stammered on to say "I've been fighting my whole career against people like you, feminists, intellectuals:: Ugly women!" Yes I appreciate the humor but this brings up the point again. They focus less on being pleasing creatures to men. In this case I am referencing ugly as being unattractive in manner or in appearance. This kind of ugly she probably means as women who don't choose to apply cosmetics as a daily routine. I see no immediate problem with makeup as I wear it and wear it for myself only but I really do give a salute to women who don't feel it's a necessity or a requirement. :)


Kudos to Ms. Farmer, especially in a time when it was much much worse and unequal.

Kudos to EBTG composed of two members - one female and one male who support this belief.

OOOOOui!

my frog is getting chubby! :)

yeah...

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a september kind of feel

It comes near this time of year. The air becomes heavy; thicker and almost scented as autumn closes in. In the front of my mind I hardly ever know what month it is anymore. School schedules would pound that in nicely, my theoretical secretary would get the memo by the second day. How else to explain it but that each month tumbles into the next? Maybe I might notice.

But September always stands out.

I'm hoping and praying I don't have a someone else's old bills hanging over my head. I don't know where to even begin on that one. As to where I live now-- my parents usually seem far away, buried under debt of their own that only seem to deepen around this time of year.

Dammit macs don't crash, my ass.

On a plus note I stumbled into a collaborative blog and music forum the other day, centered on intellectual and eclectic varieties in music. It's refreshing to see others take music to another level other than a base form of entertainment. I see it as something to be celebrated as artistic, as a meaningful form of communication, sect of life, and a unique way to delve straight into the heart of any matter. Anyone who knows me knows that I can talk music for hours and hours... and hours after that. I'm thrilled because I'm already getting references for musical artists and groups that I've never heard of before. *grin* Had to geek out on this one.

God, my head hurts...

Earlier my dad and brother were watching a programming about the most recent conflicts in the middle east and how it could spell World War III. I sat there crosslegged on the floor completely spellbound and all at once screaming inside to discredit everything and claim ignorance. There was a segment on what the key element of chemical warfare could do. . .

I was asked to take a stance in an essay on the bombings on Hiroshima in an old history class. Unethical was my take... To me, nukes are way too powerful to be used as a means in human conflict. Woo hoo you brought a whole nation to opt out with repetitive crotch kicking. Who can call that victory?

I'm still a little out of the loop when it comes to the everchanging scene of this Holy Land. Yet if I got a pop quiz on the subject it would be easy to sum it all up, suicide bombings, evacutions, death toll, religious intolerance merging into genocide (if not xenocide at this point).

This country's war sometimes brings me to hang my head. My stance on the war can only be described as a photo-finish, one footfall making all the difference. That's beside the point.

I only wish that more was being done other than steal the flag. We need more social programs within the borders, not just treaties and military support. How is such an ethnocentric tunnelvisioned country supposed to be so warm and receptive to "Western" ways? If we don't take the time to fully comprehend what issues the public there is conflicted over, military efforts there will be in vain. If we don't do our part to best illustrate why the dramatic reforms are taking place, why they aren't an attack against their culture and religion then they will have everyright to join the resistance movements.

We're a diverse country, what we need is American Muslims and Americans with middle Eastern backgrounds to aid the changes of life there. Programs which promote religious tolerance, programs that respect Islam, programs that aid families and communities with the tools they need, programs to help feed the hungry there, programs to help the country to build political awareness. They're not going to listen to and relate very well with a bunch of white guys in suits. Why should they listen to politicians who may visit now and then, who come to speak only written words, who are mainly appearing for their own countries? Pro war or Anti War people need to see that dramatic shifts are taking place in a very closeminded arena. You don't storm into the operation room in the middle of your husband's brain surgery and cease all medical action. The incisions have been made.

While some military support is needed because we started the whole thing and leaving now would be rape, there should be more focus on internal aid and social reform, not military enforcement.

There's my two cents. I need to sleep before my body self destructs.

Fine.

Not all board games are boarding as hell.

come again?

"When a baby is born it is interesting to see the nature upon which it acts, which is inherently self centred and therefore sinful. The only thing that matters to a baby is it's own needs and desires, it is it's own god. But I do also believe in a babies innocence due to it's ignorance of it's own sinful nature. The key idea is that sin is a part of our nature from birth, thus a part of us and our makeup, permeating every one of the components mentioned above. Our mission is to turn our nature around, to "no longer conform to the pattern of this world" and to reflect Christ by working to change our character, not separate parts of it.

If we accept that we are inherently evil and need a complete renewal, rather than thinking we are actually perfect with a bit of excess bad bagagge, only then can we truly work to change.

The only value I see in separating the sin from the sinner is that it becomes easier for us to love all people."

-- http://www.sciforums.com/archive/index.php/t-2390.html



Meaning???

I recognize that this is from an independent religious forum, so I will be gentle. (yeah what's with the sci in the url?)


Inherently evil? I vouch that we have equal capacities for good and bad.

I do not understand the Christian doctrine of being born into sin. All I can sense from a newborn child is hope and innocence amidst the child's so called ignorance. What a beautiful stage of life, who can disagree?

"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed." -Albert Einstein

c;< C< c;< c<

Ooooo!!

Fishie!!! and my nervous frog.


<('o')> v\`--´/v

a right as you also have...

We were sitting in the front room, I lounged in my p.j.s . Dad usually doesn't talk much politics but there we were on the topic. President Bush. The war in Iraq. Protesters. Vietnam.

He lowered his head, whispered, don't tell your mom this but. I mean I hate Mayor Rocky Anderson, want to drag him from the back of a truck for a few blocks but... i was listening to him at work, and I *really* think he has a right to an opinion. I think so.

Don't tell your mom.

It is not our purpose to become each other; it is to recognize each other, to learn
to see the other and honor him for what he is.

Hermann Hesse

couldn't call them on it

The topic of the Keirsey sorter arose in a number of my classes in high school and once last semester. Any personality test I question the sensitivity of the results. I have a deep skepticism of any people sorting methods, took it again at the same site* Yet I came up the same. I thought it wouldn't seeing as it 'claims' that only 25% of the population have this temperment yet another source claims that it is little as 8%-10%, but no matter. I see these kinds of things being overly sensitive in their questionares usually, like the color personality tests. Still interesting though, little rebuttle from me this time.

_______________________________________________________________________________
YOU ARE AN IDEALIST

Idealists, as a temperament, are passionately concerned with personal growth and development. Idealists strive to discover who they are and how they can become their best possible self -- always this quest for self-knowledge and self-improvement drives their imagination. And they want to help others make the journey. Idealists are naturally drawn to working with people, and whether in education or counseling, in social services or personnel work, in journalism or the ministry, they are gifted at helping others find their way in life, often inspiring them to grow as individuals and to fulfill their potentials.

Idealists are sure that friendly cooperation is the best way for people to achieve their goals. Conflict and confrontation upset them because they seem to put up angry barriers between people. Idealists dream of creating harmonious, even caring personal relations, and they have a unique talent for helping people get along with each other and work together for the good of all. Such interpersonal harmony might be a romantic ideal, but then Idealists are incurable romantics who prefer to focus on what might be, rather than what is. The real, practical world is only a starting place for Idealists; they believe that life is filled with possibilities waiting to be realized, rich with meanings calling out to be understood. This idea of a mystical or spiritual dimension to life, the "not visible" or the "not yet" that can only be known through intuition or by a leap of faith, is far more important to Idealists than the world of material things.

Highly ethical in their actions, Idealists hold themselves to a strict standard of personal integrity. They must be true to themselves and to others, and they can be quite hard on themselves when they are dishonest, or when they are false or insincere. More often, however, Idealists are the very soul of kindness. Particularly in their personal relationships, Idealists are without question filled with love and good will. They believe in giving of themselves to help others; they cherish a few warm, sensitive friendships; they strive for a special rapport with their children; and in marriage they wish to find a "soulmate," someone with whom they can bond emotionally and spiritually, sharing their deepest feelings and their complex inner worlds.

Idealists are rare, making up between 20 and 25 percent of the population. But their ability to inspire people with their enthusiasm and their idealism has given them influence far beyond their numbers.




________
http://www.advisorteam.com/temperament_sorter/register.asp

*(a 'professional' personality website which charges for its indepth reports which only hosted a copy of the Keirsey test. c'mon people charging is for the birds... erm well in Hitchcockian times that is...)

too easy

"People naturally fear misfortune and long for good fortune; but if the distinction is carefully studied, misfortune often turns out to be good fortune and good fortune to be misfortune."

this is a clip from the Dharma of Buddha. How interesting. Can this say that fortune takes more responsibility and control than misfortune?

how easy it is for me to embark upon worry. whatever comes will come with my welcome. Total gain or loss in anyday, the joy and wonder still remain however hidden it may be. i accept that events may end in my favor or end against it. so I live it, know what is before me as best I can, it is fleeting without any promises to stay. Less worry, fear. It's about losing the contingence on third party promises. Life should not be feared, misfortunes and fortunes attached. I will enjoy my day.

I need no promises, other than the morning sun.

Legend of Zelda - Twilight princess was postponed again but only by two months... Not bad, nearly promising but I'm not keeping my fingers crossed.

November 2006. Plenty of time for me to acquire the means necessary. THOUGH I THOUGHT I WOULD BE PURCHASING IT AT GRAYWHALE. They release their games a day late and discount them a tad to compensate.

OOiuo, this is going to be one of those weeks...

Ugnh... Brains. And I thought I could sword fight.

ugh

The putrid odor of matrix perm treatment is taking my house by storm. The horrors of being down wind, this room of mine seems to always get the worst of it by virtue of the vents and location. Not to mention hair color, but that one was one me. But jeez two perms in a row? Hey ladies how bout I go and curl your hair for the rest of the week so my house can smell half decent. That way I don't have to wheexze and hallicinate with the combined fumes of matrix hair color, primer and latex paint, and perm curl settler and inducer? huh? huh? Never mind, it's truly a game of pick your poison, having to fluff up old women's afros or endure chemical warfare.

and it gets all the better when your mother decides to bring the source into your room to show miss perm rod scalp the new paint job. The smells I swear are alive... *gag*

as little left to say

I could go on and list all sorts of 'trivial' things about my evening.

Like how the week I began orange tags were half off and the week I left orange tags were again discounted. One of the regulars met me over at the jewelry case, stocky and tall, backpacked as usual finding curiousity at trinkets I would pass by. She always seems to pick out things with rustic elegance, much like herself.

There was this man who resales handbags on ebay, eccentric looking with a roman face. Huge rectangular glasses, thick hair like the scientist on back to the future. He came to the register back when I was all tied up and bound by the ropes I was trying to learn. I completely messed up on the transaction before him, and then blundered on his check out as well. "Don't worry its a part of life. We mess up and then go from there." was his rough wording. I expected him to be angry or impatient, but not in the least. I would have told him thank you but... I just shyed off.

Kara stopped me in the parking lot and asked me to call now and then, tell her how things are. I act stiff around her still. I don't think I have ever met a woman with such an contrasting presence, hard and scanning at the same time as caring and maternal.

"if you bore me I am comfortable, if you interest me I am scared." It's a quote I find so relevant to my personality.

As I was chucking things into the compactor I nticed Margaret lighting up a smoke. She'd just quit recently. She sat there on the dock with a willowly look to her, dangling her old and tired feet over the end.

I hated the politics of the place. No doubt about it. Obviously admist my complaints something kept me there longer than usual. I don't think I was meant to leave earlier than now.

I kind of choked up when I saw the gift basket they had arranged for me at the end of the shift. Chocolate, a candle, flowers, and a silly cat figurine, a card written in Margaret's beautiful cursive.

I thought about when Marché left. You should have seen her whir through those dressing rooms, completely up to par. There was something so hardworking and efficient about her. Marché would sit alone on breaks, with her igloo lunch box plastered with cat and starwars stickers. We left with about the same reputations.

My mom pointed out the other day that I get along best with the older employees. I shrugged.

I need to call them tommorrow. My card fell out in the store. I could go on about the little things.

too much fun

I really shouldn't be paid for these kinds of cheap thrills.

Dude. Tell me it isn't fun breaking oversized random objects into pieces!!!!!

Liz tried again and again to get the'bloody couch down into that frigging compactah'. I proceeded to jump into that compactor pit and slam the wretched blue couch towards the mechanism. I managed to beat the back off of the couch, and collaspe the arm. hee hee. I kicked a huge hole into the base too. The sides were reinforced with some sort of steel and wouldn't budge.

There was also some problem with some boards that were stuck above the compressor. Blah. So I handed Liz a metal bat who was jumping and stomping almost as maniacly as I had earlier on these boards. She took a few stabs and swings, let Erin take over. Erin's dread locks were flipping all over the place as she took a weight lifting bar and speared holes into the board and mumbled that this location should have an axe handy.

Erin takes the hippie award of the year, no contest. And seeing her take prey on this plank of wood made the day almost priceless. Holy shiot.


I'm trying to get the gumption to ask Haily my vegitarian coworker to hang out sometime. Try out some movie buisness as dangerous as that is. lol. There is something so otherly yet cultured about her demeanor that its hard to describe. *shrugs* I'll see how that goes.

I wonder where next week will take me.

i shouldn't think at night

The most intense rounds in life are fought with subtleties. A brief flair of words, a passing gesture, it's meant to be delivered with the same feverish trickle of a papercut.

Summarizing always angered me ever since I was young. With the boundaries of a summary I could never express my wonder or exasperation, the winding details that set an event apart from any other occurrence.

Then again, think about it. One word could be a thousand pictures, a picture a thousand words.

Something in me enjoys harping out the starkest attributes from my understanding. There is something to it, tacking something down as best as someone can through the medium of expression.

O'Keefe found the beauty of simplistic curves and gradualising color, pinning art down to its most basic elements. Whether it was painting a swirl of sky or oddly arranged skeletal remains amongst the spring blooms or a leave protruding from a stem. She drew interest to it. Though this is not limited to art.

The power isn't so much in the brevity as it is in the up close perspective.

Even the order of which you reveal the content of a message can completely rearrange the impression.

Interesting.

holy cow

Maybe I can muster up the sanity to finish my two weeks notice.

Emphasis on maybe.

Goodness I don't want to go today. I'm in no mood to be hounded after every minute I am on the clock by supervisors who are desperate to keep their jobs with an anal rententive manager. I just hope my coworkers can get out of there before it gets insane. There ain't no way they'd get me to sign agreements unauthorized by the company.

Until then there are a few distractions i still have. Like the supreme coolness of finding an awesome band you forgot about smack you across the face from some movie's credits. So 'Low' was responsible for the song Half Light... Muah ha ha.

Can I play my nintendo console on this mac?

I NEED my super nintendo! I need a nap, hot chocolate. Bloody frickin frackkin frunum. How am I going to make it through another ...

contagion or happenstance?

Rewatching "The Mothman Prophecies" has curiousified me again about theories of mass hysteria. the subject itself is interesting, sound or unsound, either way it will turn up as thought provoking. Either it's (but not limited to) a palpable pattern of social responses to archetyped conditions; a social state that can be logically explained or there is an additional element coming into play; that being the paranormal , influence of a divinity or elevated being or condition, or extraterristial happenings.

One time when I was at work I was asked to mop up an 'accident' in the rest I was the only one staffed who could stomach it. I admit I almost threw up myself looking upon and being so near the mess. Ick.

But there it is - a common reaction between people.
It is very common to become queasy and sick stomached at the sight and smell of puke or human waste. Many will have biological impulses to regurgitate themselves after nearing such. It creates a domino effect of biological manifestations of disgust.

Think back to a meeting within an organization in which you attend i.e. church or school. Someone among the seated crowd will probably yawn, and before you know it. Its like chicken pox. One initial yawner, three responding yawners etc. More dominoes.

::Yes... It is late. I'm even yawning. ::

Can this be applicable to independant matter that is well exposed to a public, which becomes archetyped after being well rooted in a publics affairs? Is it limited to biology? We are a intensly social species.


A few instances which some attribute group hysteria or shared delusions that immediately come to mind is the Salem Witchcraft Trials and the Red Scare that had the U.S. jerking like a nervous bird.

Paranoia is contagious. Have you ever been in an open area with friends at night when the surroundings have been a bit spooky, and the rest of them became spooked. Even if you don't get spooked yourself by such things, you still feel their growing fear. That fear will probably more than likely make you uneasy. I'm not salying you will be cowardized right there, but fear is something that is very easily signalled from one human to the next. How you respond is one thing, you don't have to squirm liek the rest are doing, but I am sure that that would be one of your more basest responses.

I've really got to look into this when I am more coherent and energized. Daaamn. I am soo sleepy. Perhaps I can salvage some vital brain cells while I sleep.

That went well

Strange.

"So we don't think we are going to stay till the end of the lease. We're staying with his mom in New Mexico."

"Yeah? Me too. I'm going in with my parents again"

"Yeah?"

"Yep."

"BUT THE FISHIES!?!"

lol

Quinn: "If Dad had died, I would've been freaked out for, like, years."
Jake: "That's the spirit, sweetie. Avenge my death."
Daria: "You're not dying, Dad."
Jake: "Avenge me!"

boxing

I get the feeling it will be one of those days.

Or these days... I do what I must.

I would have gotten boxes from work, but Savers flooded over. The drain in the emergency door let up, a small leak and as soon as they opened it, it was up to their shins. However that works. I did see the inside and the closed signs, water was everywhere.

I've already begun packing. My mom says she'll be scouting out for boxes. I'm thinking about renting a uhaul. Dad will be entirely less irritable. I'd honestly do all the moving if I could. I can, but not without throwing my back out again.

Tammie can't pay the bills this month, again. I'll do what I can to help her finish this month. Losing a little plasma never hurt. We can switch the names in the lease.

Fun things to work out now.

I feel strange wherever I go.

Leaving and coming 'home' is equally strange.

It's the Swiss I tell you!

Ohkay someone explain this.

How come Eiffel 65's "blue" never fails to get me excited? This another ramen complex?

Sheesh.

Or just shush, I am hearing a distant call, yes yes the circus. They'd do well with someone of my sort.

lol.

So Called Chaos

Funny, sad, interesting, common responses of mine. I want to get past learned responses, expectations of responses in conversations.

My mom became audibly comptemplative today, sweeping up the shop. "what is life about anyway, I mean theres gotta be a purpose." My jaw dropped right open, I rarely hear her say anything full of thought like that. It's unlike her usual topics, neighborhood gossip, nice little doses of high contrast religion, flow of the day, wanting to be rich again like when she was single, or humorous responses. She usually laughs at questions like that but with her back to the door, she looked down at her cracked hands withered away by shampoos and coloring chemicals, asked herself what purpose meant. She'd talk like that sometimes after her knee surgery, couped up in her room. That kind of talk from her will usually surprise me. Driving around, she pointed up at the moon, "i like those thin moons". Just seeing her in a rare state of wonder was satisfying.

Dreams are something I have been thinking about alot lately.
Everyone has dreams kept far from public. We usually see dreams only as just that --far. The present almost doesn't exist to us as humans. Always clouded by the trails of fear tread in the past, and an anxiety about the slow and thick curtain of the future. Only the known and the unknown. The current moment usually can't be lived, we as humans are scattered about in different times and places, never really completely present where we stand. Always clawing and and holding empty grips for more, and more once the ordered supply has arrived. We seem to judge things only by impressions and predictions, beforehand, and long reviews after the matter. But should we really have to have the door slammed shut?
Do things really need to leave before people can know the worth of something? I don't think so.

Why do we always hang our dreams up so high up and far away from us? Like the porchlight Gatsby would stare off at musingly, a speck of green in the distance. The pursuit had polluted him, he expected it to be more, to be different, to be enrapturing. He never could stay mystified by that light, or the woman who lit the light at dusk upclose, as the way he could from a distant stance. He loved mostly the tease, the luring of the dream, not the attainment of the dream.

Not to say that being subserviently content is the answer either. There is also danger in that. Awareness and a willingness to appreciate is all that is required. We shouldn't confuse the feeling of achievement with a drunken like bliss, or expect to be completely swept away. Live yourself into all things to misquote or requote Miss Keller. Why assume that achievement of our dreams will reduce themselves to our whims?

Emily Dickinson wrote "You love me best when I refuse". Though this is different from the topic of how we covet our dreams and easily discard them afterward, it can apply. No will drive someone up a wall. Yes, well, we expect yes. We stamp and label yes, treat it to dazzling lights, trumpeting music in the background of found glory. While aspiring and expecting dreams, We become petty, shooting off preferences at first sight of a yes. It shouldn't have to be you never know what you had until you've lost it. We need to know how to evaluate what is right with us, when it is with us. Past, present and future should be equally embraced, balanced and observed.

I really do believe that current humanity is afraid of anything too raw. We want coffee but not without milk, a pinch of sugar.

don't like really

Don’t talk about me as if I am already gone. Consider what you will do with the spare room when I am not around.

Nearly everything they said when I last saw them was about the expiring lease. Maybe they just look forward to privacy.

I know I am not around alot. Liz laughs at me whenever I tell her the ratio of nights at my parents to nights at my apartment. I just... can’t really stand the commute anymore. There are little things like the strangled looks in his and her eyes when I ask about splitting the rent three ways.

I don’t know what to do for a job. School, I think it’s too late for this semester.

I know I’m not around. I know you’re a little scared where you’re gonna end up. The fighting is no accident. You’re far from judgemental but you feel all his criticisms. You don’t like the stripes of rage in his anger, the arrogance when he’s corrected.

I know I’m not really around. I’ll think about it while looking for sleep tonight, staring the wall down trying to find sleep on someone else’s couch.

No wonder you want me around more. Even so I don’t know what to say to that.

noooo

Okay, I thought the swamper stank. We are soo calling the landlord.

Heavens have mercy.

I came home and the sink smells like decaying flesh.

There was a terrible accident right outside my house. I would openly weep if I totaled a mustang. It got jacked up so bad, the horn device jammed up and would not stop. I woke up to a neverending car horn. It was probably the first time I have ever seen anyone just gallop into an ambulance vehicle.

The heat... gonna kill me...

Oops

You said red blonde? Color swatch was...

semipermanent. okay, if you spent the money.

turned Purple?

Wha--?

little plastic castle

Perhaps I am doing good, the week has proved to be ‘khaotic’ and atypical, call it what you will.

Caity called me, after I swore to call her. I am terrible at calling people these days, migrating between cities usually takes a mental toll on me. I would go to my apartment more often but I can’t even rest knowing that in less than six hours I will get ready two hours earlier than usual, to take off to work, to go see so and so etc.

I’m about ready to pummel a few of her family members. Her breaking the news of being pregnant didn’t go so well with them. These days the boundaries of unconditional familial love are paper thin. How can they just treat her like a shame on their name. Her grandparents kicked her out, screamed at how worthless she was, and how she’s going to have to slave away to get any apology. One of them started breaking things, went on and on telling her how embarrising she was to the rest of the family. Hello? She’s taking the steps to be responsible, and is not afraid.

Ok, so much vanity in the family reputation we’re sorry, it just taxes on our needing to care about you in unfavorable weather. Bullshit.

As if this isn’t enough they are prolonging the frenzy by saying she’s also screwed up by where she chooses to get married. More like where not to. “How are you supposed to get to the temple and recieve it’s ordinances now? You are no longer worthy.”

I told her I didn’t care where she will or will not choose to have the ceremony at. I told her temple or not, your marriage will be worth something. No matter where you choose it to be. She loves him, she is preparing to be a mother and looking forward to it, I don’t see what the problem is. Her love for her fiancee is not any less, and the origin is not an insult to her child as they would suggest. I am just tired of people violently persecuting others, no, not just others, but family kin over bigotry and technicalities and zealotry over their own damn collective reputation.

That was how the week began. I’ve just felt so fragile towards others as of late.

Alycia, a physically handicapped girl and daughter of an old coworker came into my work the other day. I love the way that she looks at things, so distant and adoring of whatever she fixes upon. I would love to see through her eyes, she seems to have this unfiltered love for all the little things, for people and such. I remember her stare adoringly at two Chinese sculptures, ones that I never even looked twice at, (the detail, it’s ornamented so beautifully it’s so white!) She’s so softspoken, she waited ten minutes to just catch my eye to tell me she couldn’t hold her things anymore (due to her condition) so afraid to interupt anyone.

I asked her what her plans were now that she had graduated. Alycia talked of hopes of going into linguistics and law, hoping to aim for a position in the white house. She told me this between many short breaths, with a thin smile on her face. She hopes to go to law school. I just... She seems so delicate and softspoken, more sounded like a dream than anything. I really wanted that dream to be her most aimiable goal. That she would reach all that she hoped for. That her dream could be within reach. However I think of the skepticism and hard edged demands and specific qualifications that career would require and think, she would be eaten alive. Her hopes were so pure and raw. I watched everything about her light up as she explained this and I looked away, tears welling up.

I had a customer ask me about a blanket, I answered her question quickly and before going back to cleaning, told her she had beautiful green eyes, She said other wise and confessed she had been crying. Her ex husband had gotten into a car wreck and is in critical condition. Something about his arm being cut off, something about her wanting and not wanting to tell him how she feels about his drinking again. Or how she feels about his well being. Later when I was thrown on the register, I asked her further on...

Then there is Liz who doesn't know how much courage she has to watch her four year old go through his brain surgery, he's been in a haze of seditatives, sometimes responds when she is there. The swelling has been horrible and well he may just require additional surgeries due to hemorraging.

This week I have been increasingly sensitive to these things, however not injured by them. but just troubled by the complex habitat we all badly maim each other in our attempts to ‘share’ or just not share at all. It just seems like hard times for everyone these days.

Hearing Anna break into tears over my answering machine totally... Or Tammie look at me hopefully each time I tell her I am leaving, hoping I will come back. I swear she’s already accepted me as family and yet, here I am her roomate that has to pay visits to see her. There's my mom crying about her unpaid bills, and...

It's the life we live.

It’s just been a dismal week.