spiritual ponderings, tattoos, and intoxicated viewings of futurama...yeah, it's a normal post

currently, i'm sitting at my desk (i made it off the futon! who woulda thunk it??) and i'm pretty damn bored. some season 2 futurama episode is playing on my dvd player, i'm enjoying one of my hopefully-soon-to-be-award-winning christmas beers, and i'm not tired in the least. well, let's just say, i'm not sure if i'm tired, but i know i don't feel like sleeping. in fact, i wish sleeping could be made obsolete. for me, sleep is almost always accompanied with a mild-to-strong sense of defeat. i think i'm in the minority here...i'm good friends with some people who would spend all their time sleeping if they didn't need to work.

it's so frustrating when there is so much to do, and so many things you could do, and yet you end up doing nothing. i could read...i've got about 30 books on my shelf that i'd really like to get into. i could research...my thesis is upon me, and it's not really gonna be easy. i could work on music...but, after being at mcgill for this long, most of my creative, artistic tendencies have been snuffed out "like a stale pall mall" (yeah, i've seen a lot of seinfeld recently). i could mull over the scattered thoughts in my head.....yeah, that sounds about right. and, at least with blogging, i can pretty much get some of them out there to my relatively non-existent audience.

i came across a notebook that i used for my reflections in my freshman year mysticism class today while scouring my apartment for a very expensive set of needle EEG electrodes that i'm probably going to have to replace, and, as usually happens when i come upon this thought repository in recent years, i get a little shocked at how far removed i am now from that time in my life. while i have learned so much since that time of naivete, about maturity, women, goals, friendship, etc., it seems that the promising avenue of spiritual exploration and consciousness expansion on which i was travelling has somehow been almost completely lost. the worst part is that i don't know where i went astray. was it the four straight years of booze? was it every badly-timed pseudo-relationship? was it the stifling experience of professors trying to shape me into a corporate mechanism? it's really difficult to say...probably a combination of many of these experiences. no matter what it was, i'm frighteningly different then i was. i haven't become completely cynical about this field of mysticism, as i am still open to it, but i just have little drive to go down that path recently. come to think of it, it's very possible that i don't want to walk that road again simply because of the pain that immediately followed the opening of my head to these pursuits. i had been almost experience-less in life and dove head first into a realm of contemplation and exploration that is as murky and hazy as the darkest of oceans. i did not end up in the shallow water and bump my head...i dove into the deepest of deep ends, and kept swimming further and further down, to the point when there was no clear way to come back for air. and it was in this confounding abyss that i was barraged with the heaviest and most profound experiences of my life so far. i guess now i'm trying selfishly to protect myself from getting into that position again. the keeping of spiritual rumination and life lessons in separate and distinct moments is very difficult to do. my only hope is that i can get to a place in my life sometime when i will feel comfortable enough with daily life to do another half-gainer into the deep end. damn, i need to quit it with the water metaphors.

one thing to look forward to is that i'm probably going to get my next tattoo soon. i was hoping for jesus (who did my first) to come back to montreal to do mine, but i'm not sure whether he will be anytime soon, so i'm going to get one of the other artists at Imago Tattoo to draw up a rendition of my design, and i'll decide whether he's got the right stuff or whether i'm gonna hold off for jesus. if you live in montreal and want a tattoo, you gotta check out imago. though, when i say tattoo, i'm not talking about just any cookie-cutter, "i wanna get a tattoo just to get one", "i'm hammered, so why not?", found-on-a-colorful-board-with-300-others tattoo. these guys are professionals. it's all custom work done in the most clean, sophisticated tattoo place i've ever experienced. so, i'm just crossing my fingers that jesus is gonna be back, or that safwan (the owner) has an opening, even though last time i checked, he was booked for over a year.

there are other things to look forward to as well...friday will be a blast with dave, jenny, and jen all coming here to watch futurama and taste beer. if anyone wants to join in the absurdity (oh, there will be some absurdity!), let me know. as most of you know, nick's apartment, aka NightTrain's Palace of Procrastination and Inebriation, is always stocked full o' beer and tv shows on dvd, so there's enough to go around.

anyway, i should probably call it a night. i'm gonna go lay on my comfy bed and unsuccessfully try to fall asleep. peace.

music. finally.

the fact that i've done a bunch of posts on this scarcely-read blog and have not once talked about music (or movies! what the hell? ::slaps myself in the head::) kinda hit me today, so i thought that i'd bring up a few things on my mind about bands. anyone who knows me understands that i have a lot to say about music. i can't get it all down here...i can't even get all the music that i'm thinking about right now down here, so bear with the moderate randomness of the rest of the post.

bands of promise so rarely follow through with it. just off the top of my head, there are a lot: mod flanders conspiracy, the workhorse movement, the refused, loop dreams, 30 seconds to mars, snot, etc. notice that some of those bands are still around...this is because they had promise, then somehow unabashedly fucked it up. let's start from the top.

mod flanders conspiracy was a band that really stood out on the hardcore scene. they played screwed-up yet catchy melodies, had one of the most solid singers i've ever heard, were as tight as can be in concert, and had some of the best song titles a band of their genre could ever wish for ('my 7th grade bus driver yells at dead trees', 'bill nye the science guy makes me wanna cut myself'). then, the singer left to join this shit-metal outfit called khoura. don't even bother. i don't know how, but the production of the khoura album makes greg sound like a backup singer for nevermore, layered carelessly on top of extremely banal riffage. this is one of the most difficult ends to see for a band. from what i've read, there was little to no animosity in the breakup, but greg just got tied in with khoura. while they did see two album releases, they were both independently released, so the rest of the world has little chance to join in on the mayhem. i know they're still selling their latest album, 'take a ride on my one-wheeled rickshaw', through the website somehow, so pick it up if you can.

ahh...the workhorse movement...i remember seeing them open for kittie at the birch hill in old bridge, nj. as always, the birch hill would get a headliner, and then pack like 6 bands before them, to the point where the crushing of the crowd around you brings you to the brink of heat-exhaustion and crippling fatigue as you wade through a slew of normally shitty opening bands. i realize at this point that i must defend myself for paying to go to a kittie show. first, they were hot girls who played metal...that should be enough to justify, but i'll continue. i went with my brother, who was a bigger fan than i was, glassjaw was also playing, and on top of all that, as i found out later in the night, the kittie mosh pit was one of the fuckin' craziest pits i've ever experienced. and i've done them all: slayer(2 times), pantera(4 times), dillinger(6 times), hatebreed, deftones, msi, deicide, dog fashion disco, etc. to this day, i have no idea whatsoever as to why that pit was so harsh. but, i digress. workhorse came on stage, and blew our low expectations through the roof. the sheer energy of the dual vocalist attack and their back-to-back, phrase-exchanging rhythms completely floored the audience. their groove was heavy, unforgiving, but so full of soul. luckily i got to see them two more times after that, but since they have parted ways, much in the same way that at the drive-in did: splitting into heavier and lighter bands. they, unlike mfc, got to release a full length on a big label, so i think they made a decent mark...but they had potential for a lot more. either way, i'll rip anyone a copy of 'sons of the pioneers' if they want, 'cause i wanna get this shit out on the streets.

i shouldn't have to say much about the refused. most of you know them, most of you love them, if you don't know them and love them, you need to head out to your local shop and pick up 'the shape of punk to come'. if you hear this title and immediately think of ornette coleman, then you can clearly see how much potential this band had, and where their influences come from. it did change the shape of punk, not necessarily in a good way though, with post-punk becoming a household term that is getting raped by record companies trying to exploit it for their own benefit. nevertheless, this album will forever stand as a beacon in the music world...one of those albums that completely shifts what you have heard into a totally new realm. if you wanna find out about their breakup, check out their last 'manifesto'.

loop dreams. another one bites the dust. this time for no reason but bad timing. they were a boston-based group that included a drummer, synth-guitarist, guitarist, and bassist, and damn were they exquisite. i got to see these guys open for ozric tentacles at the now-defunct Wetlands Preserve on canal and husdon, lower west side, nyc. if you don't know either the ozric tentacles or the wetlands, we must urgently speak so i can inform you of these two amazing pieces of music history. anyway, loop dreams is basically a live ambient band. they seamlessly weave sonic textures like no other band i've heard, melding live-looping guitar lines, buzzy, soft, and warm synth pads, and loungy beats. layers upon layers of sound just brought the entire audience into a new realm of consciousness...sort of a dream state. it was one hell of an experience, to say the least. unfortunately, certain long-distance collegiate demands hit the band, and they were forced to put the project on hold...on hold indefinitely it seems. they had no releases besides a single full length that they would sell at the shows. thankfully, i've got a copy, so, again, if anyone wants to experience some music that they will never hear in any other situation, just shoot me an email or something.

hmm. 30 seconds to mars. as most of you know, this band is still alive, but there's no way you could also say they were kicking if you heard their most recent piece of garbage. the self-titled debut, written and performed by jared leto (yeah, from requiem, fight club, american psycho, etc.), had so much promise. it was intelligent without being arrogant, catchy without being contrived, and complex without being dream theater. some would argue that its beauty is only a veil of costly production and fancy sonic maximizing, but seeing them play live makes you realize that these guys have talent. the live show is the single test that let's you see a band at its most raw (this is obviously NOT including that popular music crap that gets played from a CD backstage with the 'performers' miming the entire performance). while they were not completely perfect live, they were solid: very few mistakes, good energy, and on-key vocals. the disappointing thing about the latest album is that it has a good song...but the good song is copied 12 times to fill an album. bleh. and, to top it all off, it's a sony release, which makes the disc have copy protection on it. this means that if you ever were to purchase this sorry attempt at a sophomore release, you couldn't copy it to your computer or ipod or similar digital device, even though you purchased the right to listen to this music. thanks, sony corporate jackasses.

snot is the saddest of all. not because i believe them to be better, but because they were forced to split due to a fatal car accident involving the singer, Lynn Strait, while he was on his way to record vocals for the second album. from most reports, everyone in the hardcore scene said that Lynn was one of the nicest guys around, and i believe it having briefly run into him at ozzfest '99. they had a rock-solid sound, and some of the most powerful stage presence in the business. definitely go buy "get some" if you can.

i'm not adding nin to the list, because they were promising, and completely followed through, but i bring them up to point out just how far they have fallen since their long awaited 'with teeth' release, which should really be changed to 'with gums' to conjure the image of the toothless, senile old man that trent reznor has become. don't get me wrong, every release before was simply amazing. pretty hate machine, while mildly formulaic with regards to music, made a serious impact at the time of its creation. the downward spiral is a throbbing, caustic, emotionally-charged piece of undeniable beauty (that is also one of the best "make-out" albums when that type of mood hits). broken, no matter how short, is wall-to-wall classics that will sear you to the bone with its biting rhythms and lyrics. the fragile is delicate, painful, and epic...soothing, unsettling, relaxing, frightening all at once. but, as it turns out, trent needed drugs, booze, women, and withdrawl to achieve these momentous icons of undying love and unending torture. now, he lifts weights. and it seems that the stronger he gets physically, the weaker his music gets. so, as his napoleon complex grows and his substance dependency lessens, we are going to be subjected to worse and worse music. sorry trent, but either find something else in your life to bring back that spark, or stop making music altogether.

well...that's enough for now.

watch out stupid people

In the year 2006 I resolve to: Slap stupid people in the head. Get your resolution here

thanks to Crystal for the above link (you win on the more fun resolution!) and for the impetus that brings another post to this relatively barren blog. so...let's see. well, things have been slow here. working here and there, some amount of loaf-age, the occasional acid flashback. i really need to get back on track with thesis related things, especially considering that my thesis proposal that i scheduled to do by now is 110% non-existent. on top of that, i still can't get the max external that i'm contractually obligated to finish into a stable, working state (goddamn dynamic memory allocation...one day, just one day, i will smite thee!). "just nine more months...just nine more months..." echoes through my head. i'm really hoping that i'm going to have the willpower and perseverance to write this thesis even though i'm not going to be doing much of anything with my degree in the near future.

i went to the mall yesterday...it was a bit disorienting. the most poignant moment was hearing "the most wonderful time of the year" being blasted through the PA in a store. with the arguing customers, overworked employees, and the foul stench of unbridled consumerism in the air, it may have been the most ironic time and place possible. but i digress...

anyway, nye should be a blast. teaching my boss how to brew early in the day, hoping to hang out with Crystal after that once i roll into the area, and eventually making my way to Gill's party in nazareth, the birthplace of jesus. (you didn't know that jesus was born in pennsylvania?? ha...even if he was he still wouldn't have been white, you stupid people...slap!!) this should be one for the books. considering that none of the media people are making it to Gill's party, it rests upon my shoulders to bring the insanity that they would have. therefore, i'm just hoping that i'll be alive when tomorrow comes.

few thoughts...

just a couple of things on my mind as i anxiously await my brother to arrive from iowa:

1. mike's hard lemonade is gross. bitch at me all you want about it, it is and always will be way too sickeningly sweet to drink casually (and more importantly, excessively). after a night of hard drinking, you don't want to wake up with your tongue feeling like you downed 23 packets of 'lik-m-aid's Fun Dip. if you force down this sugary, syrupy, alcoholic fruit drink simply because you think there are not enough styles and varieties of beer to keep you entertained and inebriated, then you must to send me an email, and i will show you the way of the microbrew.

2. traffic on highways without an accident or construction must be one of the jokes that 'god' plays on us. he/she is sitting somewhere and laughing their ass off...

god: "jesus christ...they're slowing down just cause there's a fucking hill in the road!!"
jesus: "will you shut up! i'm about to get a record time on Mario Kart!"

every day that i drive down rt. 287 to florham park to go to work, there is one bend in the road (to the left...like it matters at all), at which point EVERY CAR decides to completely stop dead on the road. it ends up taking over 10 minutes to go 2/10s of a freakin' mile. every day, some part of me wishes that it's construction, or an accident (not for people to be hurt, but just for SOMETHING to have caused this) and every day, 500 feet after the bend, the cars 'miraculously' start moving at normal speed again. the most bizarre thing of it all is that you can see the place at which the traffic breaks from the spot that you get into it! it's like everyone, every day, just gives up. they have simply accepted that this is going to happen, even though there are no on-ramps or off-ramps in the area, the road doesn't widen or narrow, and there are clearly the same number of cars going around the curve as there are before and after it. this is simply another reason that i cannot become part of the standard mass of 9to5ers.

3. 20 seconds ago, i saw a commerical for burger king's new Triple Whopper. i should end the comment there. but i won't. in the american way, not only is this massively excessive for any type of person, it was marketed because king kong is in theaters. what's the message here? that we should eat like an ape that weighs tens of thousands of pounds? if it's a snack for him, it should be a meal for us? since we're watching a movie about a massive pre-historic beast that we should strive to be one ourselves? i must admit, for the few in my audience, that i have accomplished some eating feats...like the 1 pound burger at fuddruckers (on a dare)...but i regret the choice in a lot of ways, not even considering that i had a worse hangover in the morning from that than i did from my 21st birthday. but, fuddruckers does not market their behemoth burger. bk, on the other hand, might as well pair this with their "enormous omelette sandwich" which packs 1.5 the calories and fat of a big mac....for fuck's sake, there are 1230 calories and 82 grams of fat in a triple whopper. and they are telling the public: "if you like king kong, eat this solidified heart attack!" (sigh)

more than a little disappointed

alright. i'm back in NJ now. everything is fine and normal here. i really enjoy hanging out with my parents, so that's cool. i'm working, and making cash at the same time, so that obviously evens out that equation. Chris and Windee (and their lil' puppy, Mellow) are gonna be here in two days. so, everything seemed great. especially, since i was looking forward to ending my last day in the states, before going back to a grueling work schedule at McGill, with all of my friends on nye. a team Beerz reunion on or above the scale of Bomz' birthday in february. but something is amiss.

here's the backstory: Bomz, king of all bashes, informs everyone in the gang about a month ago that he's going to have a nye party in nazareth, pa. for me, that's over 8 hours from my current living location, and about 2 hours from my home in nj. for the people in media, pa, it's about an hour and fifteen away. with no hesitation whatsoever, i jumped in and told Bomz that i'm in. of course! to me, it doesn't matter where we are, what we're doing, as long as we all get together to hang out. anyone who's partied with team Beerz knows that the locale is unimportant...there will always be shenanigans and tomfoolery (i'm an adult now, i should use adult words, shouldn't i?). well, anyway, it seemed all set up to me.

little did i know that certain media folk don't agree with this. despite the fact that only and best reunion we've had was thrown by Bomz himself, some people "just don't feel like driving an hour" to hang out with a bunch of old friends. instead, they want to hang out at the house of the girlfriend of some tool that they know from high school or go to a crowded bar full of drunk strangers. if there was nothing else going on, i'm 100% down with that (the former at least)...we'd take over the party and make it our own. but when there is a perfectly good and well thought-out reunion in the works, for over a month, by one of the key members of team Beerz, to me, there should be no question.

maybe it's because i'm sick of bars, after living in montreal: the land of all bars, no parties. maybe it's because i haven't seen my best friends in more than 6 months. maybe it's because i want to live in the past once a year or so and have a full-on, reckless, blow-out reminiscent of undergraduate days. maybe i just thought that a really tight group of friends cared more about catching up and hanging out than about the superficial element of the location at which it happens.

well, i guess we'll see what happens. i'll be in nazareth. not only did i already tell Bomz that i was in, i know for sure that it's gonna fuckin rule.

randomness

just a few things on my mind...

having a great dinner and a few rounds of quality microbrews with a close friend is simply awesome. i suggest you all try the same.

leaving unsealed hydrometer samples of uncarbonated beer in the fridge for 2 days completely destroys their taste. it's too bad...i was looking forward to comparing my mint chocolate stout after the addition of more mint, chocolate, and vanilla to the original. by the taste of the modified version, there's too much vanilla...damn...i sure hope it mellows out, or else i'll have to call it a "black and white cookie stout". mmm...black and white cookies...

as few of you who are reading this blog know, i used to live for snowboarding. it was my life. i started in 6th grade. in the winter, i rode as often as possible. in the summer, all i did was watch snowboarding videos and dream of the first snowfall. as the autumn approached, there was always that first day when you step outside, and something feels different. the air feels unseasonably frigid and exacting...you inhale...it gently stings your nostrils...you can taste winter on its way. it was this moment that i lived for. then as college (and partying) settled into my life, snowboarding took a backseat...no longer did i have access to the mountains, being in dead-center pennsylvania. for the last two years, i didn't even snowboard once. finally that's all over. i got my first taste of that virgin powder on monday at jay peak, and what a breathtaking thing it was. i was surprised how easily i got back into my rhythm...i was linking turns almost as well as i used to. while my finesse was not as defined as it was, i can feel it coming back...and it feels good.

having lost my free cable due to a relatively self-inflicted announcement of my free cable to the cable company, i'm surprised how little i miss it. while i do miss the seinfeld reruns, i own (or have downloaded) every episode, so i'm pretty set there. it has freed me from my dependence on it, so for that, i'm pretty grateful that i was dumb enough to fall into the trap that set off the bells and whistles at the company. i'm not sure that i'm being super productive with the extra time, but at least i'm not sitting like a mindless test animal staring at a bunch of drama queens stuck on an island (though i'll take reruns of gilligan's island anytime).

people need to stop using the term "as a matter of fact". "do you sell weatherproof folding chairs?" "as a matter of fact we do!"...what does that mean? was he gonna lie to me? would it be any different if he said "we do!"...would i be suspicious because i didn't know whether he was speaking about a matter of fact or fiction? let's look in another context..."so, doc, do i have cancer?" "as a matter of fact, you do!"...is it just me or does that just sound very, very wrong? as a matter of fact it does.

...and there was nothing to fear
nothing to doubt...


some of you will recognize these lines as coming from a Radiohead song. they used to be somewhat of a test for me. there have been times in my life that i have coincidentally heard the song and for some reason it signaled me to believe that if my life were to end at this moment, everything would be fine. as some who know me understand, i am not a religious person. i am, however, a 'spiritual' person, and these few words usually hit home pretty hard for me in the sense of summing 'it all' up. at certain times that i heard it, i would have this massively overwhelming sense that, based on the current moment in my life, everything was going to be all right. this is not to say that a 'heaven' was awaiting my arrival, but simply that whatever happened was not going to matter anymore. neither good or bad. just perfect.

i have a very hard time believing in a heaven ("it's fine...there's a shortage of chairs...yeah..."). not to say that there isn't an afterlife, but the idea that it's some wonderful, splendiferous locale where you get to see all your family and your pets and play craps with jesus just seems to be some wild pipe dream forced into our heads by the authority figures that are trying to keep people morally in line during our so-called 'existence'. i think of it more as escaping corporeal bodies into a collective consciousness in which there is "nothing to fear...nothing to doubt". on the other side of the coin, our consciousness may end as we depart our corporeality, at which time there would be "nothing to fear...nothing to doubt" simply because we wouldn't have the mind to fear or doubt.

going back to my original thought... i heard it tonight, and it did not hit me the same way that it had before. i encountered its beauty and simplicity but was not brought back to the feeling of content that i usually experienced. this leads me to believe that i have currently realized that i can offer more to this reality than i believed i could before. it's not very normal for a 19 year old to be at peace in departing his existence... it gave me a glimmer of hope that i'm progressing towards something and not just aimlessly wading in the currents of life.

quoting Ram Dass (some of you will know him as Dr. Richard Alpert), we should "Be Here Now". that's a powerful and univerally recognized statement that spans throughout mysticism from any spiritual background. it brings about the question of whether our existence is a totality of our deeds, actions, decisions, beliefs, etc. or whether we simply find beauty and life in a series of fleeting conscious moments. i think that during the moments that i felt at peace, i was at peace. no matter how awkward or seemingly premature they were, i was there. i'm not saying that i was complete in those moments, but considering the scope of my life to that point i was content. due to this, i think that having these peaceful moments are signs that i can be truly at peace, but within the current state of my life, i'm not. this is in no way a negative thing. it's refreshing. i've been there and my experience of these moments can only increase, both positively and negatively.

something that few people fully understand is the need for a balance between positivity and negativity. if life was 'perfect' we wouldn't know that it was. we would be bored, unsatisfied, and uninterested. beauty lies completely in this balance. we can only experience happiness on the scale that we've experienced sadness and vice-versa. i truly believe that this peace can only be obtained by a complete balance of these two, independent of the breadth of the individual scales.

my potential progress lies in the knowing that i'm not currently at peace. finally, a sign that i'm moving towards something.

last class assignment...

damn, i've been procrastinating so much of today. i have ONE more assignment due tomorrow for my music cognition class, and then i have no more classes EVER. it really doesn't feel different, but i know it will soon enough. then it's onto the master's thesis...that's gonna be one hell of an ordeal. due august 31st with almost no work done on it so far. it's funny that i'm going to be putting so much time, effort, and money into it when it's most likely just gonna hang idly on the brew room wall once i start my own brewpub.

ahh, i can't wait...such an amazing feeling when you actually realize what you want to do (and more importantly, what you would be happy doing every day). i never had it before. i did my undergrad in information sciences solely because i knew i was good at it, and that i would probably be content with a job in the field if it worked out that way. after 4 years of that, i didn't know what i wanted to do, but i knew it wasn't IT. The idea of a cubicle-ized existence, drowning in memos, bound in red tape, seemed to be the farthest thing from interesting. due to this realization during the end of my PSU years, i happened to start taking classes related to music technology. this, i thought, was interesting. what i didn't realize at the time was that "music technology" is not universally defined. at penn state, this was related to using technology to create new ways of making music, while at mcgill, the making of the music is almost completely erased from the equation. they make the technologies, but when it comes to using them to make art, they back away, putting their hands up, frightened, saying, "oh...ahh...let's find one of those...ah...performers...or...ah...composers...". with a few notable exceptions, no one in the entire program wants to make music. it gets confusing, because dartmouth, for example, has a "Music Technology" degree that is completely the opposite of this. they bring a much more creative, compositional side to the program.

i guess if i had actually been accepted to dartmouth, things may have been different...i may have become an electronic musician, or have gone on to a doctoral degree...it doesn't matter now though. either way, i knew i wasn't going to settle for anything less than finding a job that i was ecstatic about doing every day. and i found that with brewing...i think it may stem from the fact that some part of me always wanted to be a chef. and being a brewer lets me get close, while not shouldering the high levels of stress that come with being a chef. and all the time leading up to this realization, i have just been accumulating degrees, which will definitely support me if something goes awry with the brewing.

shit. all this hopeful thinking about the wonderful days after august 31st has brought me to 3:00am with my project still unfinished...at least it will be over after 1pm tomorrow...

see you on the other side...

Dusty

well, it happened. my dog, Dusty, died at home at about 6am this morning. it wasn't unexpected, considering that he's had a tumor in his heart for months now, and the vet was very shocked that he made it this long. it still hurts really bad. especially since i was gonna be home to see him in a little over a week. i knew i should have gone home for thanksgiving...i would have been around for one of his last days. at least he enjoyed his last (eating nothing but his favorite foods) and had a great, stress free life of almost 11 years, all coming to a close in my parents' arms at home instead of in a cold, clean, bright vet's office.

i wonder how my other dog, Tanga, feels. my mom told me that she seems a little depressed, but who knows? Tanga probably knew more of what was going on than we did for the last few months. the two of them always seemed to have a telepathic link of sorts. maybe it continues...we'll never know.

deception and limited resolution

baby steps across the ice. such is life.

very few times in our meager existence can we see it in a light that allows us to make judgments. this is not to say that the judgments are clear in any sort of way, but most often, we drudge through life as it slips away without sizing it up. maybe it's not our place to size it up, but we inherently do, regardless of our limited span of sentience.

staring at a delicate flower...able to perceive its beauty, not able to explain why. is it color? is it rarity? is it size? shape? vibrance? catch a glimpse of personal scars in the glass...a lingering sense of imperfection recalling both internal and external flaw. they are, in every sense of the word, delicate. where is the beauty in that? in their emergence? hardly.

cold rain pours down, stiffening the treacherous surface on which we walk. some glide, unshaken by the probable peril. others inch, too frightened...not of the surface itself, but of the conceived consequences. since we are, in fact, fragile beings, obviously inching would bring us safely to the warm, comforting place that we attempt to call home. but for most, home is a dream. home is an idealized place that never tests us, never pushes us. home is a place that always has a steady beat...only sometimes throws us a dissonant chord, which always is followed by a resounding consonance. never frightens. never leaves us uncomfortable. this does not exist.

we are in the wild. a cry trespasses the sense of safety. a horn startles from beyond vision. there is safety in 4/4. there is safety in familiar timbre. there is safety in recognizable themes. too many ache for safety. there is no surprise in safety. there is no outward experience in safety. there is no pain in safety. and without pain, where are we? never could a human experience joy, love, happiness, content, mirth, ambition, laughter without pain and anguish. safety is a cop out.

a homeless man excitedly thanks me for a handful of change that couldn't be more than 2 dollars. maybe he'll purchase a loaf of bread. maybe he'll be able to sustain himself for another day. what does that amount mean to most of us? a third of a pint of inebriating substance? a load of wet clothes in the dryer? a pack of gum so that our breath can seem 'fresh'? a shitty song off of iTunes? what we look at as an insignificant sum of change that we haphazardly throw onto our desk becomes life-preserving manna for another day of existence. don't get me wrong...i too relish in the extravagances of expenditure, but to what end? to be happy? to keep an image? to find pleasure in such a seemingly meaningless lifestyle? to make a 'home'? it is not i that understands the importance of life, but this man.

myspace sucks. sorta.

i used to blog on myspace. it was my first, and just as everyone remembers their first, i will give it due credit. i still am on there occasionally (DrGonzo65), but their blog features kinda suck, and one of my best friends showed me how nice this site is, so i'm here for now. check out his very interesting blog: Combat Davey. he's damn brilliant, and likes to write to procrastinate, so keep a close watch on his for thought-provoking insights.

i can't promise anything mega-interesting, but i can promise content that will most likely provide any readers (especially those who know me) a door into the labyrinth that is my mind/'continuous psychotic episode'.