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Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Breast or butt?

Often times men narrow their personal preferences in the physical realm to breast or butt's. I think it's interesting the attraction being broke down to two areas of real estate that account for list then 25% of total body mass. Women tend to base initial physical attraction on several aspects, and even then they combine them. Rarely will a lady say she is into a guy because of one attribute alone. Comments in regards to his cute ass, are typically followed or even preceded about a genuine admiration of his eyes, shoulders, hands, smile, or some other physical aspect that can be linked to emotional response. The majority of women seem to really like eyes, and they feel they can connect emotionally with a guy based on his eyes. While this could be a cheap dime store romance reflection,  there is some merit to it. After all the eyes are the windows to the soul right?

Well there is the basic different between men and women though. Women look to the deeper content, or try to glean some useful kernel of knowledge in regards to a potential sexual partners emotional state or deeper social qualities. While us guys are less emotional when it comes to sexual conquest. Hell if you break it down we are more about knocking as many ladies up as we can, on the primal level. Our attraction is based on the physical qualities that a lady has that could or should support a child. Big tits mean the baby can eat, and a tight ass with wide hips increase the odds of a child surviving birth. It is all about that immediate physical need to pass on your obliviously superior genes.

When you as a guy if he is a tit or an ass man, you typically get a one word response. Rarely is that expounded on, and if questioned further a response rarely comes. Seriously guys think about it, are you a tit or ass guy? If you prefer one over the other, why? Do not use the shapes that appeal to you as a response, the what does not explain the why. You see I am both.

I love boobs. I like them in all shapes and sizes. You know what they say, you seen one rack, and you have to see them all. However boobs are boobs, you get what you got unless you have the money for the surgery. Of course in the boobs catagory I have some types I like better then others. I like firm high C, or low D cup breast. I like them rounded on the bottom with a crisp clean prefect angle from the top. The geometry of the breast is what gets me. They do not need to be equal in mass, but the angles has to match. Cleavage is a great display as well, offering a comforting crevice that one can escape the troubles of the world.

A butt is more of indicator that is more in-tune with  the female views of gaining insight. You can tell a lot about a woman from her ass alone. If it is tight small and fit, you can tell she likes physical activity. At the very least you can tell she works out. A wider ass that is flatter demonstrates a more sedentary life. The variety of shapes and firmness between can be a  broken down to tell you a lot about the lady. I consider myself a really good butt profiler. I wonder if I can get a job at the FBI doing that? Seriously its a science that most people do not give a lot of thought too. So the next time you stare of some ladies ass, think about what it tells you about her? Also see what she does with her clothing in regards to her ass, or her boobs for that matter. Does she frame it or hide it?

These are the context I place things in my brain. If you actually pay attention you can find someone that fits your lifestyle, and hopefully works a s a partner for your more carnal desires. It might offer you assistance in gathering the courage to even talk to her and find out if the physical appeal matches your other criteria. This brings up a rule in my life, if you don't respect yourself, why the hell should I respect you? So if you are 400lbs, chain smoking, and woofing down a over processed grease burger and I am talking to you, its most likely not to build a strong relationship. It is most likely that I don't care to know you as a person, and don't want to. It means I have learned of some new debasing sexual technique that I do respect you enough to feel bad about trying it on you. It is a well known discussion in locker rooms across the country that the less respect you have for a girl, the more likely you are going to try an act that other girls might think are humiliating. Not that I am into it, but this is your ATM throat cramming anal sex session that you will most likely leave the lights off for.

So this is me letting some of the ladies out their look into my brain. I do not pretend to talk for all guys, but I am sure that more agree with me than not. So when you walk up to a guy because he has great eyes, and an awesome smile, don't be surprised if he he gets right to the point after looking you over. Also note to yourself about your self esteem if he tries something strange during your first sexual encounter. This does not mean he does not respect you if he immediately tries to put it in your butt, but if it is obviously his first attempt at going into the other door he might have sensed something about your self esteem that you might have ignored.

So yep, there is much more to the physical sexual attraction, even for the guys. I am not saying take this to heart as the fucking gospel of sex. I am saying please give thought and consideration to all things, even those you consider trivial. Everything has a deeper meaning, and understanding that might offer you the chance to be happier in life. Also understand your motivations, and not those motivations placed on. Think to yourself are you banging that chippie because of social obligation or because you really want too? Are you sleeping with that dude you meant at the bar because that's what people do, or because you have an itch he can scratch? Do you really want them to call you the next day, or do you just want to enjoy the night and move the fuck on? If you are looking to establish a relationship are you putting out the right indicators or are you doing the wrong things to support that person from taking you seriously or sticking around? Sometimes sex is just fucking, but you need to keep your own self esteem in mind.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

but it's not my fault,..?

Blame is the name of the game. Transference and the infamous hand off. You want to know what the world is lacking, try responsibility. We tell our children it is not their fault so many times that they do not know what to do when they are at fault. They stand their confused and look to point the finger at somebody else. Then that remorse they are unfamiliar with turns into anger. That anger lashes out and we get another school shot up by some kid that everybody has something to say about then, but nobody wanted to talk to before.

You want to fix the troubles we have with violence? You want to deal with the fucking bullies? You want to get this shit under control and off the news, so they can focus on issues that would make our life better, rather then dwell on the negative craptastic stuff that gives them ratings? What do we do? How do we fix this shit? That is exactly what it is, a huge pile of crap. Now this kid in Ohio will have his fame, and someone else will be given the blame, because we are broken and like to look at the crap. We the people have become fecalphiliacs. We are more interested in the shit thrown on people, rather than what could be, or should be right.

We need to change our focus, and we need to learn to look inward. Sure some of the BS in your life comes from the exterior, but how you address it comes from the interior. The majority of the woes in our our existence are self generated and self perpetrated. Rather than trying to send them somewhere they do not belong, perhaps a little personal responsibility and involvement in your own damn life. So rather than blame the bullies for this kid shooting up his school, maybe blame the damn kid for making poor judgment. Maybe we hold his parents responsible for not being a part of their child's life enough to teach him about anger management, or fucking being responsible with a firearm.

We are so quick to blame the guns for killing people and cry to take them away. We blame the cheese burger you got from the drive-thru for you fat ass, rather than the complete lack of self control. You want to resolve the issue with bullies, punish their fucking parents for teaching them to be hateful bigots. Teach your kids to punch those ignorant ass hats in the nuts. Stand up for yourself, take care of yourself, and you will understand what it actually means to be a damn adult.

Yeah I am bit worked up about this. I don't know if you can tell. I could rant about this topic for days, but the end state is simple. Stop fucking handing off the blame. Take yours and own it. Stop looking for reasons to justify your bad behavior. If people stopped trying so damn hard to be lazy, they could use that effort to actually do something with their life. Bottom line own your own shit.

So you want to teach these kids that shooting up a school is not cool, how about you show them as a responsible role model or parent what is cool. Set the damn example, own up to your fuck ups. Your uncle Winky beating you with a wet noodle and locking you in the closest with a midget in a clown suit holding double ended dildo is not why you are fucked up. Your decision on how to deal with it is why you are fucked up. You want to carry that baggage, carry it. Own it, its yours. However you have a choice on what impact that is going to have on your life. You can choose to be a victim, because that is easy. You could choose to be an adult though, and fight back. You put that asshole in jail, or punch him in his sack. Your call. I can tell your though I do not like hanging with victims. I create them not celebrate them.

Yep, I am an asshole. If the role you wanted to accept is that of a victim, don't get pissed when people push you around and take your lunch money. I am not saying the hot chick was asking to get raped, but I will say her getting smashed and walking down a back alley by herself was not the best idea. She needs to understand that ignorance does not free you from responsibility. Stop putting yourself in the tiger cage and screaming at the zookeeper when you get fucked up.

I have a feeling this post is going to get me to lose a few "friends". However this is how I feel. This is my head, my mind, and who I am. So if you're a victim, or you get butt hurt over this, fuck off. Stop reading my writing, and don't go get a beer with me. Keep blaming Mc Donalds for your extra chins. Keep blaming the guns for the crimes. Keep taking and taking from the government and bitch when they take back from you. I will sit by my desk with a gun in reach, and keep on writing regardless of how you you feel. Go see a therapist and don't waste your whiny ass words on me, I will just tune them out and call you a pussy.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Why I think of Zombies.

After looking to the world stage, and being a zombie apocalypse kind of guy, I started to look at real life scenarios. I do not mean the dead rising from the grave, because that to me is an unlikely event. Climate issues would have a great effect on the length of zombie epidemic, warmer areas would increase decay at a rate that they would not be able to ambulate for more then a month at best, and colder climate would render movement improbable unless they were some how warm blooded. It is a fun fantasy, but highly unlikely. Maybe something like a rage virus in 28 days later, but actual walking corpses would be difficult to conceive being practical. To me the most realistic scenario would be a Mad Max style world and what would come from that.

The reason this is in my thoughts now is because you see the signs of economic collapse are abundant globally. Things that will reflect in our own government, and with those things you see in other parts of the world, it would only take a small event to either trigger a cycle of rebirth in the government or the lawless collapse that we saw in the late eighties in Somalia. Then you have a different kind of apocalypse, and warlords and gangs thrive and are the only form of order. This is why being involved in your government now is so important.

Thing you will see in the government that seem to be universal in those countries in the middle of an economic collapse are starting to show signs here in the US. Government corruption is the highest of the order. Politicians or officials start using their powers to do "favors" for friends, and to protect their personal safety and comfort. Certain freedoms will be removed to "protect" the fragile government. Gun rights are a great way to gauge the level of danger in the government. Those countries that continued down in rabid decline introduced heavy taxes on guns and especially ammo prior to the a collapse, as in the case of Argentina in 2001. In severe cases they banned the ownership of any firearm even for the purpose of sport or hunting.

The next freedom to be challenged is your right to speak out. Censorship starts as a tool to control panic, but freedom of speech is slowly stripped under the guise of public safety. In some situations government officials called news agencies directly and threatened them with heavy taxes, fines, or imprisonment. In the scrabble to acquire the funds to keep the government afloat certain other resources are cut, and you see the legal system suffer as well as the press. Seizing "illegal" guns, and censoring the news puts a strain on police who are having their budgets stripped.

In 2001 the Argentinian government saw their legal system overburdened to the point that rapist and murderers were placed on house arrest. Greece is seeing the same thing, were lines to court rooms are as long, if not longer than the unemployment lines. Hospitals,, schools, public transportation see so many cuts that they become ineffective. If you look to the public school systems in the some south American countries and those in Europe that are currently suffering and you see a glorified day care.

The roads and infrastructure will not see dramatic change for a period of time, but more and more potholes will not be filled. Overgrowth along roads will be freestanding. Public parks will be unmanned. Camping will become a hazard to your health, and forestry agencies will be even more powerless to stop forest fires or other annual natural occurrences. You daily life will be diminished as you see those cultural luxuries removed.

Coffee shops and bookstores will give way to liquor stores and porn shops. Crime will begin to rise and swell. Those unemployed cops, or other unemployed government agents will share that same desperation and lawlessness and some may even join gangs or criminal groups to provide for their own families. This is where many of those warlords in Somalia came from. They were soldiers and police men. They were highly trained, and desperate. They also knew the system would be unable to pursue them and or would be ineffective because of lack of resources to pursue them. So if they are caught they have bribed their way out of the situation, or merely bought the persons pursuing them out right and had them join their organizations.

Now add any type of natural disaster to this climate, like in the case of Somalia's drought, and you get the collapse. That is Mad Max over there all the way. Look and see if you can see the signs of this decline in our own country? Ask yourself if the collapse of other nations may or may not have an effect on us? Then tell me if I am just being paranoid when I think about what I would do for me and mine? So yeah I plan for the worst case but in the mean time I try to stay active in my government so I can prevent that from happening in the first place.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Xbox live?

Once again I ask my friends for help. Below is an observational essay that have to turn in to my English class. I am looking for help with grammar, and checking the flow. Does it make sense, can you catch the prevailing them, and does it captivate your attention? Comments are welcome.

"It's Alive."
To further add to the escapist view of video games, there appears to be a unique language and culture that has developed in this virtual world. The fear that enters is not in regards to a desensitized population in regards to violence, but rather this infectious conversation rolling over into the real world. Logging into your Xbox Live account you step into another world. Names that are given by parents are replaced with handles, or names you would like to be called. Pr0mdr3ss, 3rd-.-French, n00bK1lla, l0ves0ck13, are just a few I see on a regular basis. Only one of them is mine, but all of them say something about the user on the other side. This world is filled with squeaky voices trying to present themselves as adults, wannabe gangsters, and fourth trimester abortions sitting in their parents basements trying to recapture a life wasted. This is a world of trash talking, were respect is earned. That earned respect is rarely given, but bitter hatred overflows in a world of little consequence.

It was the intent of the game designers to offer a way for players to communicate and have a stronger gaming experience. The theory is that players on the same team would talk with each other to work toward a cooperative goal. It was a utopian idea. It is all rather appealing. You take something you like, and share it with the world. You find those that share your like and build a connection that transcends the physical world. You can see this intent in the architecture and design of the system. The bones lay bare white and pure for the whole world to see.

Flesh is added to those bones. Muscles, fascia, sinew, tendons, blood, and gray matter bring this creature to life. It is the ghost in the shell, an incorporeal form that has taken on a life of its own. If you remember it has no substance, it can not hurt you, but it will try. This Frankenstein beast is wild and unruly with no way to truly punish it, or teach it proper etiquette. How do you spank a child you can not touch, or give boundaries to the wind? So a wild culture appears in this lawless world of social graces.

Hard words sound much more profane when you hear them from the mouth of a Muppet. Young children sit on the other side of the controller enjoying a freedom that one can only hope they do not practice in the corporal world of brick and mortar. Profanity that has made a sailor blush comes out of prepubescent voices at such a rate it loses all power. Fuck is the new "um". I wonder if their parents are present on the other side, or if they are playing in a dark room away from the prying ears of adults. Some parents have said they have heard this speech but understand that their children hear it, but do not return the volley of curses across the veil. It is great to have that faith in your child, but there are times you can't hear into this world of anarchist verbiage. Little Johnny is not Little Johnny in this world, rather he is a trained killer with a manly name and a record all of his peers can see. With that comes a secret language that outsiders might not comprehend and the expectation of vile worlds expressing station and rebellion.
Foreign words carry the taint of English. Words like noob, and pwned are leaking into the real life. "Bunny hopping spawn camping noob tube rockin jerk monkey" was one statement from a high pitched voice of an eleven year old boy. I was impressed that I did not hear him drop the "F" bomb, but that peace was short lived. Shortly after a young lady got on the channel and made the infamous nearly complete sentence of profanity. Loudly she blurted "F you, you Fing F!" Hearing a little girl say that made me think about how nasty it really sounds. I know I am no saint. I am former sailor, and currently a soldier. My mouth is no virgin. I am however much more aware of my words hearing those same words come from the mouth of babes.

The worst part of this subculture of harsh words is that those little bastards back it up. In the real world I am positive I could, and probably would, choke slam most of these trash talking disrespectful little turds. However in this new frontier, many of them move with a natural grace that rivals a gymnast. They back it up and punish you. The easiest way to get respect and gain control is to be better than them. Not morally better than them, but tactically and practically better. Having grown up with the pixelated reality, you would be hard pressed to teach these children anything. This is the world they were born to, and you are tiger taking on a school of tuna in the deepest ocean.

This is a world were strongest rise, and no one really dies. It is a violent paradise to rival Valhalla. Each time a warrior falls he or she is reborn to continue to fight. There is no feast in this world, but most have a buffet of Doritos and mass produced cream filled pastries to sate that simple desire. The only thing lacking in abundance is the sexual favors that would make this a truly primal fantasy of indulgence. This is a warrior culture bent on hedonism, unchecked by morality. When you see the beauty of it though, it is hard to look away. While the concept is repulsive to our more conservative physical nature, this is a world world were the primal soul can run free.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Yep I killed Bin Laden.

It's a growing trend of stupid. Something that is really starting piss me off are the stories I am getting from my brothers and sisters around the world. To me it is far worse and has caused more damage than Congress cutting the budget for the military. I want to talk to you about posers. People call it stolen honor, or a variety of other things. I call it a con. Seriously these fucking liars put on uniforms and decorate themselves with chest candy to try and get free food, special services, and I have even heard of one guy getting a beej. Now that just pisses me off. I am not one to take a free meal, but I have gotten in the habit of asking if a business offers discounts, but I have never gotten my dick sucked just because I wore a uniform.

Now why this pisses me off is because people are retarded in general. These assholes are typically wanna be rejects that know enough to keep the ruse up with a civilian with only TV exposure to the military. The move in and take advantage of people and when they get caught, the bad light is shined on the military. Some pull off their crap so well that people that they target have no idea they are being used or conned, until its to late. Then when they figure out they were taken, they still have it locked in their mind it was one of service members.

So I am going to try give a few simple tips to the civilians out there. First off if the story sounds to good to be true, it probably is. That is the biggest give away. Most of these military wanna-be's have this in common. They peg the bull shit meter full out. They have all just gotten back from super secret squirrel shit. They are not just special forces, but very special forces. Most of them went on special secret missions that you might have heard a bit of it on the news. Some serious signs are they did this missions single handed.

The worst of these offenders are wash outs. These are people that did not make it through boot, or got kicked out in there specialty training for the military. They know a few acronyms, and the lingo of grunts, and one or two of the more colorful phrases. They are also bitter because they failed, and they blame the military for their failure nine times out of ten. So they can pull off the far more in depth cons. So beware of the Green Beret rocking a trident of the S.E.A.L.s.

Some ways to discount their bullshit, is first off don't give them something if they as for it. I have never asked for a meal to be paid for, and when I ask for a military discount at a store I produce my ID. I have never asked for a thank you for your service blow though. I think I might start asking for that though, I did not know that was an option. I will even show my military ID. The rare occasions I am out in my uniform I am quick to get home, and on the uber rare times that I grab some food out on the economy, I eat it now, taste it later. I do not like the stares, and I am not a fan of the attention. Like me for me, not because of what I am wearing.

Bottom line though, do not hold the military accountable for the actions of these bottoms feeders. Yes the military has their fair share of douche nozzles, but they are in no way this distasteful. So if you see a homeless guy on side of the road holding up a sign that says help a Vet, give him directions to the VA. If you want to buy a guy in uniform a meal or a beer, ask him about something you might know about the military first. Test the waters, and also check and see if he or she even wants you to buy the meal in the first place. Beware the con, and understand they are not affiliated with the rest of us. Do not hold us accountable for it.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Eagle to Ostrich

So we have Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Marines all over the news again. Granted a dead crackhead is getting more spotlight, and in this case I am okay. You see the war is winding down, or at least people in the government looking to get elected are going to tell you that, so they can use it as a talking point to put themselves in office. When a war has gone on this long people have forgotten why we went to war to begin with. They have forgotten so much that we as a country are actually in support of the Taliban. Seriously, WTF! This is a political party that was in absolute control of Afghanistan before we invaded. Yes we did just go through them to get to the the Al Qaeda assholes training in their country, but we did have to go through them.

You see they did not move out of the way. They had an entire country under their grip, and a breeding ground for for terrorist and drug dealers. Yet we are willing to get behind them again, if only to slap the current regime into straightening out. Yet this is not in the news. Some Marines piss on the bodies of the people they killed, and its on the news. Yet we do not talk about people supporting the former government that produced the environment the created those assholes willing to shoot at our Marines in the first place. We want out so bad that we are not willing to do the right thing.

The worst part about it we are not looking to get out for the right reasons. You leave a war because you have won, been defeated, are embarrassed, or at the very least your objectives changed. I think we are looking to leave this war behind because the mindless masses are bored with it. It is no longer news worthy, like Snookie and her slutty inbred retard friends. The news is hollow, and more focused on entertaining you rather than talking about the issues that actually affect us as a country. It is in our self indulged arrogance that we are about to commit a sin of epic proportions.

You see the PR swing is going to go with canceling the great war show. So you are going to see more and more negative news in regards to the war. You will see more stories about our service men and women returning and not standing up to the negative effects of war. The stories of support are slowly changing to stories of disdain. The stories of the double amputee running a marathon are going to be cast aside and the epidemic of PTSD maddened parents beating their spouses and children are going to take center stage. Those ever so cool hipster yellow magnets are going to replaced with anti war slogans. You can see it already, and your veterans, are going to pay the price so the news can restore their ratings.

You don't believe me, that's cool. I am just putting it out now. Look to the news and be aware. See the stories that slip into the headlines. Look to which candidate starts to maneuver to position themselves in the popular concept of the war. Look to those using the effects on the soldiers as a rally point. Look to those saying enough is enough, and talk to putting the fucking Taliban back in the government. Yep they are just a political party, but so were the Nazis dumb ass. If you don't see this as screwed up in anyway explain it to me please.

I may not like all the people in the military service. I do respect them though. They are my brothers and sisters, and I will not allow them to be used and cast aside. I will not let them use a few dumb asses, a few that have lied about their service, or others that lied about serving at all, to take a damn thing away from my brothers and sisters. We have done more than you asked, do not let them wag the dog and turn us into the bad guys so you can sleep better at night, and the masses are no longer bored.

Our government is already a sad shadow of its former self. Corruption has taken root. It is the choice of the lesser of two evils when voting. So now we are going to make those defending the ideal of what our government could be, should be, and has been, into the bad guys. I am sure this is not going to turn out well if people figure it out. I only ask you keep an eye out. Just watch, and see the trends. Less good, more bad, then the shift to all bad as they wait for the public to cry out to get our troops out. Then a "hero" comes out of the midst and does that. They get your vote and our nations heroes become the villains in the public eye. Then we go and celebrate the life of the next crackhead that dies and try breathing through the sand we shoved our head into.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

They're grrrrrrrrrreat!

All people ever want is a simple life. In history great things are rarely simple, this is why no one really tries for greatness, it is literally thrust upon them. People talk about being a good person, or trying to be the best person they can be. Rarely do they use great in the term of self. You can desire to be a great painter, actor, or parent, but rarely people desire to be great on its own. Alexander the Great, Peter the Great, so few in time have held that title. It was not Alexander the Great King, Ruler, Lover, Poet, it was simply Alexander the Great. It stood alone behind his name. There was also nothing simple about his life at all. Not one thing simple, though I am sure his nature craved that simplicity. He would probably have loved growing up in a merchants house, or as a farmer with no legacy to leave behind for the world to world to dissect thousands of years after his death.

So while we as people try our best to be good, or we strive for that concept of what we feel is good, rarely do we really try to achieve greatness. Greatness is a duty that we are issued. So we either rise to the occasion, or we sink into the abysmal record of failure. It is greatness that makes a person worthy of hero worship. A hero to me is someone that has achieved greatness and sets the example. It is not someone that was simply good, or good at something. You see while people can go to the gym or seek a teacher to be good at something, no one can really follow a check list to be Great. This is something that is unique to a few people in history. Some even carry the title because of good PR, rather than actual greatness. Some also slipped through the cracks and never received the title.

So with that thought out of my head, I do not want to hear anymore about Amy Winehouse, Kurt Cobain, Micheal Jackson, or Whitney Houston. Yes they were good at what they did, but not great. They had a talent and they used it, and one can say that maybe they were even very good, but not great. Hell as people they actually sucked. They were just a talent wrapped in a meat sack. So please get the fuck over it people and lets get back to living our life that was not really all that affected by their loss. Maybe that is the issue? Does your life suck so bad that you would lift a pedophile alcoholic self absorbed crackhead to hero status because it is a step up? Some how I doubt that, but if it is the case, please fucking shoot yourself and stop wasting my oxygen.

You want to know a few people you could possible admire if you were not so wrapped up in the bullshit idea that Hallmark, Walmart, or the other consumer Gods try to feed you on what is Great? Try Stephen Hawking, Mother Theresa, or some other innovative individual that actually thought well and did what was right. They did not worry about how many people loved them, hell Mr. Hawking still doesn't give a shit. He does math, not the red carpet.

It is this need for needful things that consumes us and twist our priorities. Yes we all want warm dry and full, but really does a big house full of shit you don't touch more important then following a path of meaning? What have you given back to your neighbors, or that false hero you watch on the Grammy's? Sure Brad and Ange want to adopt the fucking world, but all that does is feed their ego, and make them look connected and concerned. Why not admire the lady that is working in Africa to end the neglected children, and helping cure or control epidemics? Seriously if they were that socially conscience do you think they would live in a house that all of us could stay in and not see each other? That makes you a snotty elitist not a role model.

Look for a hero, tell the world who it is. Look for someone that is actually Great, and not just good at something. Aspire to be them even if you can not possibly lead an Army with War Elephants across the known world. Look to those that will leave an impact generations from now. Our grand children will be like Elvis who? They will all know Einstein though. So fuck the fad, and find a thinker. Aspire to greatness, or fall into the lines. The choice is yours, and most take the mindless route. Its easier that way, and easy is good right?

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

The winds of change can blow me.

My mind is adrift blown around by joy and sorrow. Wind brings change, and change is neither good nor evil. Change simply is. This is the state of being I would prefer for myself, to simply be. A simple life is not one without reward. I do not have vast material wealth. While I have had enough of it to decide if I would like to miss it, I can honestly say I do not. I gauge the value of things not on how many dollars it would take to purchase them, I look to them as to what emotion they can bring to me. Was that emotion one I really wanted to experience, and did I get it enough out of it to consider it valuable. Maybe this is why I am where I am now in my life. Maybe it is this value system that has brought me into my current state of personal conflict?

In a different, just like everyone else. We all see things through our own eyes, think thoughts with our own minds, and feel things with our own hearts. Rarely will you meet someone that shares your views on everything. I am not saying it is not possible, but it not very probable. I also doubt that if you found someone that shared your views that the conversations would be very interesting. That to me is odd though, that we as human beings find agreement to be so boring, yet so many times people will use force or coercion to get others to agree with them. You need proof, just suffer through one night of news. One political or religious group will attempt to force it's views on another, even though when or if they get them to agree they exhibit the signs of complacent boredom.

So what if we disagree, you should not look to force me to agree with you, but rather focus on your right to disagree with me. We are not going to see everything the same, so why try and waste your energy on hollow pursuits. If you beat a dog into submission how long do you have before it turns on you? If you let the dog be a dog, and you teach it to let you be a you, how long do you have to spend with that dog? One path is longer then the other, and one has more grins, and the others more mocking sneers. Rarely do I find a sneer sexy.

So I do not link the emotional with the physical, to me it is heresy. To the majority is it common place and accepted. How many of you had sex today because you were gifted or gifted some commercial bauble? Personally I think of it as prostitution and some whores are cheaper then others. A box of chocolates versus a diamond ring. Why does it have to be a material item (the physical) that is used to express love (the emotional)? My different view on this matter has gotten me some dirty looks, and a few harsh conversations, but it is how I feel.

This is also why I do not think sex equals emotion, or that sex is the physical representation of emotion. One is physical and one is emotional, linking them cheapens them to me. While they are both great, they are great alone. Can they be mixed, yes, but it should not be an all time thing. Also the emotion can come in the variety of positions. Haven't you ever had hate sex? If not I recommend it, very satisfying. Lust can leave you broken, while making love to me is slow and boring.

While you may or may not agree with me, I will not force my views on you. I expect the same respect. That to me is what community is all about. It respecting those different views and understanding that no matter how many people you force to agree with you, you are not more or less right then you were when you started thinking that way. Right and wrong are not matters of numbers. So if you don't like gay marriage don't get one. That does not mean you should block others form doing so. You don't like guns, don't get one. That does mean you should stop me from owning one or one hundred. You don't like porn, don't watch it. Oh and if you make this illegal people will still find it. People have been trying to do this with prostitution since society was born.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Bet you can't guess where this ends,..

I ask my brothers can you hear the call of spring? So many go to their may pole early and think of fertility, lust, and the toils of the flesh, but March serves a deeper purpose. The name of the month even comes from the Roman God of War. It also states in a large clear purpose with its name, and the name alone speaks volumes. Soldiers march when the soil turns and the snow subsides. From March to October there are only the mercies of the campaign. Now we are not dependent on season. We have trained and equipped ourselves to the point were we can bring angry steel to the corners of the earth at any time or place.

My people of old took to sail or to horse. This was a time of raids. Cattle lay in fields of fresh green shoots, showing the signs they are ready to run fat with a calf. Sure there is time to think of the rabbit, the symbol of the fertile Goddess. The eggs hidden in hopes that their fertile symbolism was discovered by children, there by welcoming another child into the world. They sing to there own, and those children are the future of a people. They are our collective past. They are our hero's, role models and ancestors. Those generations of children born of spring dreams.

While those children ran through the fields, their fathers and some of their mothers marched through March to a different field. There were times they did not return to those fields to enjoy these sweet thoughts of spring that many focus on. This was a time many warriors kissed their last goodbyes to a lovers lips. Young boys dreamed of being men and took to the sword. Older men wise enough to know war went to the plow. It was a time of change. It was a time of life and life's end.

You can tell the measure of a man, and the years he has lived by how he looks to spring. Some are more measured to desire, and give to the throws of the flesh. Others give to logic and tend to their fields. Those measured few give to their will and look to their purpose. We do not all hear the warriors call. This does not lay one man above the other though. Some men make the beer, so others may drink. Some men grow the wheat, so that others can eat the bread. Some men look to the walls of other homes so that those left behind might think.

So what ever purpose spring brings to you, know your path and enjoy it. Understand the paths of other men, and do not focus to much on one path. So while you think about plowing a fertile pink field, don't forget those looking to work the rich black soil, or the red fields of memory. Answer your ancestors call. Take the path they ask you to take, and make sure you give thought to it when you honor them. Passing a plastic basket with plastic eggs, stuffed with candy, and that infamous ham. Oh that honey glazed ham, the wealth of a villager displayed for you to admire. It was the ancient equivalent of setting out your check for others to admire, then going one step further and giving your guest a signed check sharing your wealth.

All these things you do had purpose before. It was not so hollow as it is now. It had meaning and it can again as long as you understand the meaning they uses to have. Pick up a book. Study your history of your people. Connect to the past, and give your future cause and purpose. So march into March. Let spring be sprung, and look to a bright future. Carry your past into that future and honor the path that all your people choose. Guard, soldier, baker, farmer, or lover, we all have purpose. Understand the purpose we all have and find yours. To look forward you have to look back though, and not to the crap the consumer society is trying to spoon feed your fat ass.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Train keep a rollin,..

Work work work, day after day. All I seem to hear is this is work, that is work, this needs work, and you need to work on that. I understand the aspects of work. I understand the need for work. I am very much a task oriented individual. I understand that life is boring as shit if you have nothing to work for, but today I am I going to put my foot down and say that sometimes we focus to much on the damn work and forget what we are working for. We lose sight of the prize or purpose as we toil away like zombies with our heads hung down drudging through life, trying to figure out what work needs to be done.

So many things in our life require work, really they do, but why are you working? That is the question I am working through in my head. I would like to think that one works toward a purpose, so you are working to move forward. You are working towards something right? You following me so far? So in the movement forward you are in motion. Maybe not in the totally physical sense, but alas you are moving forward. So even if you are toiling away in a cubicle farm there is still a goal that you are working towards. For most the goal in happiness in one form or another.

So lets think about this movement to happiness. There are these things that the Newton guy came up with, not the fig, but the Sir Issac type. There are three of these laws and they are fairly simple to grasp, but if I lose you, pick up a book. Maybe you should have paid attention in secondary school, and if you didn't go choke yourself. Teachers work hard enough as it is for little money, and you are impeding their motion by being a dim witted self absorbed tool. So the first law goes something like this; Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it. So an object in motion tends to stay in motion unless something stops it. So if you are a lazy fat ass eating a bag of cheetoos on the couch and forget which was your cheetoo hand, and end up with orange dick, well its because something stopped you. What stopped you, usually its you, you know that apathy that retards to laziness. Yet who knows that might be your form of happiness so go with it there tiger dick.

The second law of motions is; The relationship between an object's mass m, its acceleration a, and the applied force F is F = ma. Acceleration and force are vectors (as indicated by their symbols being displayed in slant bold font); in this law the direction of the force vector is the same as the direction of the acceleration vector. So mass and acceleration are expressed in the force of your life, not the star wars Jedi stuff, but velocity. This means run fat ass, run. The more you move forward to your goal, and the more weight you put into achieving that goal, the greater the velocity you will have to propel you to that goal. So your efforts do pay off, just make sure you are pointed in the right direction. Without an understanding of your target you will shoot by it.

The last of the laws is that for every action there is an equal an opposite reaction. This means if you run into someone with all of your force their force will be applied to slowing you down, or ping you off in the opposite direction. So many times your happiness can be derailed by the pursuit of another happiness because you run at them instead of with them. If they are not a chip eating fridge grazer, odds are that their velocity is greater then yours, and you will feel like your happiness was hit by the proverbial train of their pursuit of happiness. Then both of you are losing the efforts or momentum of your work. This is conflict, it is part of life, but rarely does it get your happiness, unless you blew by your happiness and the conflict makes you stop and think about it.

This is my thoughts on relationships. If you are running at each other, neither of you can achieve happiness. If you are running with each other, then you need to be running at the same thing, or you will end up moving apart. Three degrees of separation get pretty damn big with the mileage you are going to turn during your life. Its not good or bad, it just is. So think about this when you are looking at your life. Are the people in your life running as fast and hard as you are? Are you running in the same direction? Or maybe you are running into each other and stopping each person from achieving happiness. Work is good, but working to just work is a waist of your time, and therefore a waist of your life. So get a move on, try to keep pace. Build up the mass of your smile, and run with the pack you want to run with. If paths part they part, but understand why, so you know if you are pulling someone to their happiness, or are they knocking you away from yours. Life shouldn't be bumper pool.

So on that note, understand I am a cannonball. I am that fat kid heading for the pool, and when I find my happiness I fully intend to keep running with it. No point is fixed, the universe is always moving, so if you stop moving happiness will blow on by. Get moving and get living, or get the fuck out of my way. If you something is to much work and not putting you in motion to the things you want to do, maybe its time to let them go. Work with me, and not against me, and maybe we can all be happy before we stop moving in this life, and move onto the next.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

A step away

Today I am going to share a paper that I received a high grade for. We had to write an autobiographical essay about a pivotal moment in our childhood. We had a few subjects to choose from, and this is what I wrote. Its a bit long, but I think it is a more positive than what I normally post here. I am very proud of it, but not to the point I can not hear critique.  So reflections on the essay and feedback are welcome. It can only help me become stronger as a writer.

Its one small step for a boy, one giant leap for manhood. That first step off the Post shuttle is the hardest one. I had been here a thousand times before, but this time that side walk might as well be the surface of a strange and distant planet. The concrete was as old as the greatest generation and looked like a dalmatian of chewing gum. It was a long twenty yards to the steps of the movie theater, and it was a matinee. There was only one screen in this converted stage house. Sure it was probably great in the in the vaudevillian days gone by, and now it looked like a palace restored to its former glory and purpose in my young mans eyes.

Each step was with a gallows humor, a dim light shined through the dreadful gloom. It was something new in a old familiar place. The salty sweat glazed my palms, my breath matched my steps, rapid but lost in distorted time. A brisk nervous walk would have been better suited for the mischief typically accustomed to a boy of fourteen years. This was not about cherry bombs, or toilet paper though. It was something new and scarier than mayhem. This was about a girl. Not just any girl, but a girl that had said yes to me.

Looking back the causal conversation of adolescence was ripe with discovery. A whole new world opened in in the poorly folded notebook paper. This digital age was about digits, as in fingers. Those curious fingers of his fellow students passing that paper across rows and rows of uniform desks. Each one of them shared in the thrill of keeping it from the teachers eyes. With each scrap of the chalk on the board it would jump row after row, only pausing when the writing did. Much like the search light break out from prison in movies that had graced this very theater year after year.

It was rumored that some guy named Frankl had spoken in this very theater about his time in Auschwitz, to the crowds of soldiers that had liberated them years before. You could picture those poor souls trying to pass notes with deeper meaning, yet it did not strengthen my nerve knowing that people had gone through much worse on these very grounds. Baumholder Germany was miles from Auschwitz, and one could speculate that they where not concerned with a trivial first date with a member of the opposite sex. It might not be a big deal to them, or those great hero's of liberty that watched black and white love stories unfold as they tried to forget the burden of the war they just fought. This love story was in color, living color, vivid, visceral, and very very real.

The car pulled up at the bottom of those teared stairs. Forty three stairs down as a matter of fact. The significance of forty three stairs could be lost to time, or it could have been something as simple as to how many stairs it would take to build the theater on level ground. It was not important, it was the chasm of fear right now. Those steps might as well have been the brink of the Grand Canyon as far as I was concerned. This was vivid, visceral, and very very real.

The object of my youthful affection stepped out of the front passenger door. Her sixteen candles thrift store attire gave me a sign she had put at least some thought into what she looked like. It was important to her, and the ribbon holding her hair in a casual fashion spoke volumes. She cared, but gave an appearance of confidence and control. It was a sharp contrast to my over gelled wet combed hair. My old jean jacket was replaced with a collared itchy polo shirt. Sneakers rejected under my bed, cast aside for Sunday loafers only worn on sacred occasions. This is what she wore each day, just the best of it. I had changed my identity in an attempt to impress.

It took me awhile to break that first gaze of this breakfast club beauty. My eyes traveled up and caught the eyes of her chauffeur. The man who drove her to this first date did not leave arms reach of the sedan. His eyes spoke volumes across that great divide. We conversed a deep threat and spoke loudly to my young mans heart. If I was not the picture of nervous now, I was the embodiment of nerves for that moment. You could not mistake that he was her father. He was a soldier. He could kill, and would kill if one hand roamed further then allowed. If a kiss was given it would be giving quarter, and should not be spoken of to any ears beyond those walls. Sure it was to protect her reputation, but also to protect me from the whims of the vengeful father.

She bounced up the stairs with no care to the events ahead. This was exactly as she imagined. She was cool and controlled. She knew she was in the drivers seat, and it was me that desired to be a man. She knew the secret of this whole ordeal. It was written in every book she has read since she first dreamed of Prince Charming. The days of pigtails and inkwells are behind her now. She was already becoming a woman on her own, but the boy I was, needed her and her company to figure out how to take that step into becoming a young man.

It was not innocence that was lost in the lobby of that movie hall, but a return to innocence. It was not about sexuality, but human interaction on a deeper level. One awkward touching of the lips to lips was all anybody ever saw in the world running and changing around them. This however was a tale as old as time, it was the beginning of a first love. Though short and sweet as the events of army brats usually are, it left a lasting impression on both of them. Her father was stationed somewhere else a mere year later, but that year was the best love ever tasted to either of them. It was discovery of joy. It was sacrifice of self. It was all the great things that you read about in books, and it ended on the best of notes of the most broken of hearts.

We were not mad at each other, and to this day I still pine for her. It was not until a decade later that a girl moved above her in my heart. My daughter was born on the anniversary of that first kiss, and it took that first kiss from my daughter to dethrone the queen of my heart. Still some decades later she still lingers there. It is that romance that guides me, and I now look with dreadful eyes. I wait to drop her off at the movie theater to meet her clumsy boy. I know now more of that woeful guardian and knew that he meant every word he said through closed lips and open eyes. Oh that first kiss will never be spoken of in locker rooms for fear he might hear about it. It will happen though, and one can only hope it carries the same weight to shape that young mans life.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Fold and Fluff

Alright people enough is a fucking nuff. I am actually getting pissed, and I while people think I am pissed off all the time those that actually know me know this not to be true. I am just direct and I call it as I see it. It is not about being PC, because PC is soft shoe bullshit that I do not have time for. When I get pissed it is something that few people have seen, and it is not the loud opinionated diatribe that I spew out on this page. When I am actually pissed, it is efficient and painful. I severe the ties to what is causing me to be painful. I do this by means that are the fastest and easiest for me. This means the source of my anger is not given consideration as to their precious little feelings. So trust me when I say you do not want me to be angry with you. I will drop you like a bad habit, and if you choose to get back up and try to hang onto what ever issue it is that makes you feel so damn self righteous, I will drop you and not in the social sense. I mean it physically and with a finality that few will or could understand.

That being said I am going to but this out and say this is my life, this is not the game show of the same fucking name either. There is not team jerseys or sides being drawn here. There is change going on in my life, good or bad, this change is happening. Those that the change affects are dealing with that that change in a logical manner and doing what is best for parties involved. Those not involved can remain not involved. There is no need for you to nose into my business, and start being team me or team somebody else. Seriously when did you graduate high school, and when you did were you able to leave that childish gossip girl bullshit behind? I left that world two fucking decades ago. That means I have been out of public school a damn sight longer than I was in it.

So with that, I want people to think about this long and hard. This might help you out in your own life. So some of the things I have going on that are just not coming to light have been brewing for years, and you are just now finding out about them. What does that mean, or at least what should that mean? It means that my laundry is my laundry and I have no need to wave it in your face. I keep my private life private, because that is just what it is, private. I share some of my private thoughts, but that does not give you a VIP backstage pass into my life. I will talk to you about soldiering issues. I will share my insights into the human condition, but what I do behind closed doors is just that, done behind closed doors and none of your damn business. If I bring something out from behind that door, it is not for you to decide right or wrong, choose sides, or attempt to fix it.

I am a big boy. I have lived my life and learned from my mistakes. I do not see life like you, but I do believe in reason. So I can and have worked out troubles in my life with thought, and even with some weight offered to desire. I have worked out things with people that care about long before I met you. I have had several relationships social and sexual before I met any of you. I can work shit out on my own and I do not need you to wear the Team me jersey. I do not need you to change my diaper, and I do not need you to vilify myself, groups or people I am dealing with to satisfy your own ego. Some shit is just what it is. There are two sides to all stories, and sometimes there is no bad guy. Sometimes the situation just sucks and neither party is right or wrong.

So in that, if you don't have a fucking clue what is going on in someones life shut the fuck up and keep your opinion to yourself. If you have not walked the same miles in the same shoes, be there for support and take guidance from them, but do not jump to the annoying cheerleader immediately. Just because they do not agree with you does not make them evil or out to get you, it makes them human. Sometimes there is no side that is not piled in shit and holding up a turd to the air and declaring it awesome does not make that turd awesome. Life is suffering, so let people suffer without you declaring to the world that their suffering is better than everyone else. If you take my laundry out of the hamper and try to wave it like a flag understand that I will knock your fucking teeth out. If I ask you to help me to put in the washer, cool, but if I don't you got no right to go through my basket. I am a basket case, I know this, we all are. I do not wear my dirty laundry in public though. If I do, then and only then do you get the right to say anything about it. Until then, shut the fuck up and stay out of my basket. You wear my sweaty underwear on your head and its gonna be more embarrassing when you are knocked out and laying there with those undies shoved down your throat.

If this does not make sense to you, insert any event going on in your life, or the life of another person. If this still does not make sense, ask yourself when is the last time we hung out and talked. If it has been awhile, you have probably been cut out of my life. Why? Because you are not my dry cleaner, and I do not want you near my laundry. It is probably because you are a loud mouth drama lama that feels the need to share other peoples issues with the world s you do not look so bad, or maybe you are worse and do so, so people can see your issues as worse. One up everybody else because some how that makes your suffering more valid. So you use others as a smoke screen or a magnifying glass, and this doesn't make sense to you, because you are not a part of my life. The rest of you that get it, cool. Let me know the next time we are going to have a beer, break bread, or just sit and talk about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Sometimes a tantrum is just a tantrum

Some people piss me off in their blind aggression. I am all about people expressing themselves, but after you get your point out try shutting the hell up long enough for people to digest it. Cram it in my face and you are most likely going to shut my ears down. It is not that I don't like or support your cause, I just think you are a loud mouth douche. So because of that I will work to shut you the hell up, because I like things quiet. So you get obnoxious and I get hostile. Both are aggression but one is focused and used in a positive way. I will positively shut you up.

You can got about your actions with purpose or you can just scream at the moon. So many people are like grease headless chickens let loose on frozen lake. You can go through life being angry about all the crap that is heaped on you, and you can flail and flop around splashing that shit on all those around you. I do not want to be covered in your crap. I do not want to watching you flop and twitch on the ground. You don't need to be in my face for me to know you exist. Keep your youness to yourself, or be prepared to deal with my reaction.

Blind aggression is childish and untrained. It is useless in my eyes. I like to focus my aggression. I like to give it purpose. I see things I do not like, and I use that aggression to get rid of those things. I use my aggression as motivation to create things to keep those bad things away. It is not wild, it has purpose and thought. If I do something I typically plan it. I do things when they need to be done. Good, bad, evil, these things are the way you look at them. I do what is good for me when you look at it. Call it evil, but maybe that guy was trying to kill me. Maybe that pot of coffee is bad for me, but I think its good. The fifth rum and coke might be excessive to you, but I am hugging you, not stabbing you. Now tell me that it is bad?

What I am saying is that I am okay with people being angry, since there is a lot going on in the world that you should be angry about. Express yourself, but not in a wild way. Please do not be a broken record. If you tell me you think something is bad and I do not react maybe its not bad to me, or I don't care about it. Respect that, there is no need to burn calories trying to convince me why some bullshit project is so awesome that it deserves my time. I am pretty good at knowing what I want to spend my time on. You don't need to be asking me for a hand out like my time is your currency.

I like my judgment. It might not be as good as yours, as good as you think yours is, but its gotten me by. I smile enough to make me happy. I know what I like, and your unfocused misguided anger is not going to change that. If I tell you my expectations and you do not measure up, don't get shocked and appalled. I look at life differently than you. I don't hold your view against you, and all I ask is that you honor mine. You don't even have to understand it, just honor the fact that it is mine.

Either way all the flamboyant prancing, and large displays are not a way to influence me. I really do not care if you are gay, straight, black, white, liberal, conservative, or what ever label you want to carry. I just care that you are what you are and respect my desire to not have you thrown it in my face. I respect who you are and what you want to do enough to not really give a shit about what floats your boat. If I do not know what you are, or what you claim to be is okay with me. Just because I don't know doesn't mean I am not cool with it. Center stage is only desired by those weak willed people that need praise to be whole. They will never be whole and they can take their anger somewhere else.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Black and White or some shades of Great?

Many a philosopher attempted to determine what the soul was. Socrates stated it was one part, reason. This was in opposition of the popular thought of the time called the "common sense" theory. The common sense theory stated it was two parts, desire and reason. Socrates stated that there was not desire, just good and bad reason. So if you made a bad choice or gave into desire that your reason or ability to think was weak, not that reason was overpowered by desire. Now his student Plato went further into the theory of the soul and actually added to the concept and made is much more complicated. Not only was the soul reason and desire like the common sense theory stated, but it also was will or spirit. Reason was impartial and thought bore no weight. So it needed the weight of will to pull against or counter the weight of desire. Big thoughts from great thinkers. Kind of cool to be reading more and more about them.

Now there are more and more that take on this great endeavor as time marches on. There is also much more to the conversations that these people brought up through out time on the concept of the soul. Now I am wanting to take a crack at it, but through my own train of thought. I am thinking that they do not have it wrong, but I think they are making the mistake of all great thinkers and not taking the path of the engineer. I think Socrates was closest to my idea. The more streamlined and simple, the more it makes sense to me. After all our body is made of simple concepts all working together to create a complex machine. The complexity of that machine is one of the reasons we break down and wear out. If it was simpler it could run longer.

This point is proven time and time again in a literal sense, and also in the metaphysical sense of simplicity. Look at your life and and those you know. Those good people that where cool enough to share their life with you that died can attest to the benefits of living simple. At least in my experience those that lived a simple life held onto the mortal form a bit longer, then those that used their bodies like a stolen car and drove it into the ground, literally, faster then everyone else. They both lived their share of life, some just crammed it into a smaller space of time. They enjoyed it with a greater intensity, but it was much more complicated, therefore more inclined to break down. While those that did not live in interesting times, enjoyed less complication and took their measure of life and savored it, and rationed it.

Both ways are good, and each has its place. I personally do not mind if I die early, because I like the richer flavors that life has to offer me. I also like to look at the soul more than the flesh. You see to me the soul is indeed eternal. It can survive as long as the universe survives, because it is energy. Energy can neither be created or destroyed right? So if you die in the straw or by some other great means, it is only your body that dies. Your soul is freed, and will go onto the next mission. It will continue to live. It will thrive or stagnate as it sees fit, and with the ambition it has.

While I agree with Socrates, I think the soul is whole, not separate parts, like a body is whole. Things like emotions, memory, education, these are the organs of the soul. They can not survive on their own but you can make them out. So you can work your biceps in favor of your triceps, as you can work your will more then your desire. These are all part of thought, and therefore all part of you, or your soul. So you can rationalize your life choices, and exercise short term judgment, or you can exercise wisdom and make good long term choices. Either way those choices can be brought into different shades of good or bad.

I think we are more intuitive with this as children because we have not been told all kinds of crap to break up our sense of simplistic good or bad. A cookie is good, so we eat it and smile. Now we eat a cookie and we think about running an extra mile so we don't get fat, because getting fat is bad right? We learn to not trust people on appearance, and we start learning to judge. Children do judge, but it is much more simple than the judgment of adults. We complicate things, and get one step closer to wearing things down. Its not good or bad, its just the way it is. You either stay in a simple black and white world, and avoid having things happen to you, and in that world you live a long long time. Or you embrace the complicated facets of life, and bring those complications into your life. When you bring more complication you do not get any more or any less of a measure of the physical life, you just use it up faster. Its like gas in the tank, and how much do you mash the pedal, and how often do you stop and look around?

So when you stop at the cosmic gas station you can plan your trip, or you can see where the road takes you. It is your choice, your decision, and your level of involvement that gets you where you want to be. Either way the trip ends, and your soul leaves the car behind. The only constant in this equation is not matter if you try to prevent it or not, we all die. So you can live your life as you see fit, race to the end, or stave off the inevitable for as long as you can. Me, I am not so worried, my soul will live on. I plan to have some great stories to tell the other souls I come across.

So what parts of your soul would you like to work out and work on. Do you let your soul reflect the average body? Do you pack some weight on? Do you let your cholesterol run out of control? Or do you fight to run a two minute mile? Does your intangible you have great six pack abs? What scars does is have? Do you walk with the limp of a pimp? Is it a meek little creature that other souls shove into lockers at the cosmic gas station? Does it shine and declare your presence? Or is it dark and unnoticed? Good long term judgment, or short sighted self indulgence? Do you work on the carefree aspects, or do you hold onto rational behavior with a death grip? How much of an effect do others have on your reality? How many shades of gray are you? Me I am better describe by how many shades of great.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The little things.

It is the strangest details we can recall from those grand moments of our life. I am looking back in a few assignments in class and thinking about what I remember and what paints that scene so vividly in my mind. I can recall the days and times of some events, but its things I rarely give passing thought to today that recall from yesterday. I can remember the big things of course, like my first kiss was with a young lady named Michelle. I do not remember her last name, or her fathers name. I do however recall the smashed smooth blackened chewing gum that polka dotted the side walk leading up to the movie theater. I remember my sweaty palms, over combed still wet hair, and the smell of the lobby in the out dated movie palace. It was twenty three years ago, but I can still picture the soap in the rest room, though I can not remember how many stalls were in there.

So I started looking at the details I see around me now. I was hoping this awareness would help me with my writing. I know the career focus has shifted in college from writing to teaching biology, but that does not mean I have to stop writing. I enjoy it. Its fun. I like to use it as a vent, and hopefully I will perfect this, regardless of my career path. So before I go off on a separate tangent, I wanted to come back to those wonderful details. How many of them do we ignore in our daily life. Have you smelled you coffee lately? Can you describe how your eggs felt, not tasted, but the texture. How many little details do we miss day in and day out that we will recall when dementia sets in?

In those details I found a great many things. That curve of the butt, when it meets the thighs. Oh by the way that is fed by my love of the sweater dress and the underlying tights I described in a previous blog, but that detail is a fresh prospective that supports my already strange fascination with the sweater dress. The ninth street park offered some strange sensations that were sensual in a non sexual way, unless you are a dendrapheliac? Not even sure how to spell that, but I know how those worn wooden rails felt. These rails polished smooth by centuries of touch. I wondered who might have held their hands on those same rails generations before I thought to attend this school?

I tried to find other sensations where I thought they might hide, like in the Tivoli. That used to be a brewery, and now it is the campus student lounge. Fitting in an homage to Animal House, but alas no beer made in those hollowed halls any more. Yet I found myself wanting to smell the now absent hops that once mashed in those walls. Yet I did not detect even the faintest hint of that ghost. What I did find was a strange orchestra of scents that assaulted my senses. Flowers, fruits, fast food, clothes soap, and body odor. So many scents, and so many dancing around. Rich vibrate colors, mixed with the worn and faded structure. So much to process, and I could do was wonder what I would remember in the decades to come?

Now in this mission to find these details, to enhance my writing, I made another discovery. Maybe I just reenforced something I already knew? It is the little things that hold the greatest value, and it will be hard for us to remember what had an impact on us in the twilight of our life. It might be the touch of a banister, the look of a certain person, the taste of stale air moved around with youthful exuberance, or feeling you get when the air rushes past you when you open a door. What is it that will jog our memory, and what moment will we hold onto?

I am going to try not to limit myself so as to appease my future self. I will not deny any sensation my attention because I do not know what value it will have when its time comes. Each breath, each glance, each moment of contact may hold a secret in a conversation years from now. So I will try to savor each moment, and let the world tell me what it wants, and later I will reflect on what I desire with fondness and expectation.