True Truth

I have been thinking about this topic in conjunction with a movie I recently saw, "The Exorcism of Emily Rose". First, thoughts on the movie, then to the truth topic.

The movie was actually pretty well done, though a great deal of it took place in courtroom drama type scenes, rather than the actual exorcism and events leading up to it. Still, a well done movie with enough tense scenes and scary moments to earn a positive reaction from The D. Way to go. On another note, I went with two lovely ladies who happened to be a bit older than I. We were completely surrounded by kids in their teens, no one out of highschool, I can guarantee it. It was really loud at points (before the movie started), and they actually behaved themselves quite nicely once the film began; which was much to the surprise of The D. Watch out, I'm talking in third person now, hold on to your boot straps! However, one moron happened to sit in front of me and opened herself to ridicule by myself and the friend to my left. She walked in, looking very trendy, carrying a large bag on her right arm. Delightful, hopefully she had to pay for an extra seat for that damn huge bag just like fat people in airplanes. Bravo to the airline who did that by the way, Southwest I think. Moving on. I soon saw that it was not only a huge friggin bag in tow, but there was a delightfully fadish (it's a word now) dog inside the large bag, sticking it's small, shaking head out the front as the young girl walked down the aisle and sat down in front of me. With her fake nails nice and bright, she took the helpless pup out of the bag, and held it on her lap so everyone could see how disgustingly trendy she was. Her small dog sat on her lap, pink studded collar and all, as I wished upon the stars that it would pee on her during the movie. If only Jiminy Cricket were there...

What got me thinking about the topic of truth, was a few reactions after the movie from not only my two friends, but others who had seen it or had opinions on the topic of exorcism. One widely expressed view was that it didn't scare them because they didn't believe in that sort of thing. Interesting. I don't blame them for that view, nor do I criticize, I just find it interesting. And it made me think about what truth actually is, and the fact that some truth is truth, even if we don't believe it to be so. The reason that exorcism stuff scares me is because I believe it; I believe in all that spiritual warfare stuff, even if I can't prove a lick of it. But to someone who does not share my beliefs, spiritual warfare isn't a truth, it is simply a figment of one's beliefs or imagination, and does not affect them. The two cases, both views, are relative truths; relative to thoe one who holds their belief. But truth is truth, regardless of our belief, and if spiritual warfare exists, (I'm just using it in this particular example because that's what made me think of it), then it's there and affecting us whether we believe it or not.

To me, it makes me realize again how little I know compared to how much is out there, and how insignificant I can really be. It puts things into perspective, which is good. Just because I believe something, doesn't mean that it is true. It may be true to me, and sometimes that's the most important part, but it doesn't make it true truth. What exists, will exist. It is unaffected by my belief in it, or lack thereof, and that is humbling to think about. Unfortunately, or rather interestingly, many of these truths, such as spiritual warfare, certain religions, and other things will never be able to be factually proved, and so we as humans must choose in which truths to believe in; which to accept as our personal truth. There is one undoubtable truth though, and on this, you may not argue: The movie and the world would have been much better had that dog peed on that girl. That my firends, is the truth, and nothing but.

Goodbye Kitchens!

Well, this is it for me at this place. I will never write in this blog from this chair again, unless I steal the chair. Today is my final day at work, and you know what, it feels GREAT. I have not a care in the world right now. I put my own music into the cd player, and I'm sitting out here in the "showroom" just enjoying the tunes and pretending to do some work if anyone comes nearby. Sing it Michael Buble, sing it loud baby.

There are times that I will miss this place though. *looks around for a second* nevermind. There are times I will miss my boss though. Someone like him doesn't always come around in life, someone so inept and clueless that he begs to be made fun of and bashed. From his many stupid sayings, to his lack of memory, to his own little world inside that head, he's a one-of-a-kind here folks. Of course it would have been much less frustrating if I got to make fun of him without working here, but oh well, it's been interesting.

I leave a little bit early today to go to the doctor to get a cyst removed from my tailbone. Fun, I know. Maybe I'll get a lollipop. This is the third, yes, third time I will be going to get the same cyst removed. The same doctor took it out twice already and it grew back both times. If it's him again, I'm going to give instructions.

1. Remove the cyst.

2. If it grows back, I'm coming up here to cut your brake lines and loose rabid skunks into your house while you sleep.

It also really hurts when I get it done. The novacaine shot alone is incredibley painful, and then getting the stitches out hurts like the dickens too. Great phrase. Just like "screw the pooch", great phrase.

So later tonight, when I sit down on my couch and then yell cause I just got my ass operated on, I will flip on the baseball game, start up the Playstation, and smile, because life is good. So take a moment and reflect on how good things are for you today, even if things are going bad. Find something good, smile about it, smile dammit, and enjoy. Sing it Michael Buble, sing it loud.

An Act Of God?

I have an annoyance that I will discuss here for a minute. Listening to talk radio and the T.V., I heard this phrase used more than I wished to hear:

"An act of God."

This of course was in reference to the infamous Hurrican Katrina, which I have no interest in following anymore. Go ahead, call me callous, insensitive, tomorrow night even, but it's all I see on TV now and I'm tired of it. Yes I have sympathy for all those people that have suffered great losses at the breath of nature, even someone in my men's choir has been affected. His son and his son's family, who just bought a house down in Mississippi, lost everything in the storm. I feel bad, I wish I could do more, but I'm inundated with images, stories, and sadness from the south, and I don't want it anymore.

But why, I ask, is it called an act of God? All these people declaring God's actions and intentions have inside information that God did this. Do they have a reporter embedded in heaven? Maybe Geraldo signed a pact with Satan that if he shaved his moustache, he would get an exclusive on God's personal doings. Far be it from me to determine these people's spiritual knowledge, but not all of them are experts in theology. How is it that they feel enlightened enough to attribute this to someone they know little about or cannot even fathom? One certain radio host, which I greatly enjoy, admits that he is not a religious man and knows little about religion, yet still attributes this storm to God, as if God stuck his finger into the ocean and swirled it about until a dainty little hurricane formed and meandered around the gulf. My apologies to all these experts in God's will and activities, perhaps I didn't get the memo of his schedule.

Why is it that only horrible, natural disasters are given the lovely label "an act of God"? Today is an absolutely beautiful day, and you know what, it's an act of God. When the weather is perfect, God isn't mentioned, until a thunderstorm comes, or until a hurrican arrives. Look at the sun, feel the gentle breeze cool your skin, smell the fresh air as it picks up the scent of a soft petal on a delicate flower. Act of God? Not according to the media. Heaven forbid God should do something right, or something good. This week has been one of the nicest weeks in recent memory, and you know what, it's an act of God dammit.

And why do you choose God? Whatever happened to Mother Nature? Did she go on vacation? Why can't we blame it on her? How about El Nino, that was one of my favorites. Just blame it on El Nino, no one knows what the hell it really is anyway, so I'm sure it could be responsible for a hurricane. Since everyone is so convinced that the hurricane has to be blamed on something or someone, let's pick something different. Of course it couldn't just be a random event or a normal part of nature. Hurricane's have radar's on them in order to avoid cities and people. And they have these new sensitive clouds that feel bad about destroying anything. (If you didn't notice the sarcasm, then, well, you have no hope, sorry.)

But since popular opinion is so anxious to blame this catastrophic event on a higher being, since it's the easiest way, let's blame it on someone else. Blaming it on God usually gives an impression that it's the Christian/Catholic God, and unfairly places the blame in that sector of religion. Act of Satan? Sure, why not. How about Allah? Or would that be religious profiling and racist of me to blame it on Allah. I'm sure there are a ton of other religions we can blame it on. And so I propose this:

The hurricanes get different names for each new one. I think we should attribute a religion and supreme being at random with each storm as it forms, just so we know who to blame if those sensitive clouds don't work properly. How easy it is to point a finger rather than extend a hand. And how easy it is to point a finger at something you can't see; something you don't even believe in. *sigh*

Damn cool hair

I know, I know, I haven't posted in like a year. I hope I haven't lost any fans or readers due to my lack of effort here in blog world. I have a feeling during the move that my posts won't necessarily be all that frequent, but I'll try not to let several days go by between posts. How rude of me. My apologies dear readers!

By the way, the five odd words I used: Tumble, obvious, result, circular, corpse. And yes, I am a hopeless romantic. Check that, I am a hopeful romantic. Either way it's romantic, you know, just like an R-Kelly video.

I'm honestly looking forward to my move more and more now that it is upon my doorstep. I'm just glad it's not a Jehovah's Witness for once. I've already been planning things for down there and it's helping me get excited about going, rather than being sad about leaving. I'm already joined into the bowling league I bowled in for so long. (I'm an avid bowler) If I get a normal job, I may actually help coach the highschool team. I plan on playing golf with my dad as much as I can, and spending time with my mom and watching her photography, which are infestations of oozing beauty. I'm one of those dorky kids that actually enjoys their parents and spending time with them.

I also haven't been into deep thought much lately. My thing is this, I only have 2 1/2 days at work, my choirs are pretty much done, and my responsibility list is very small, just barely bigger than a butterfly's ocular secretion. So my mind is basically on vacation already, and I find myself daydreaming and spacing out quite often, hence the lack of things written on here. I will try my best to get my mind back into working shape and keep current though.

I also had an urge recently to go have me a kid. I was at a park and walked to this very placid pond, where a dad was fishing with his little son. His son had on a fishing hat and tall boots, and was telling his dad when to reel it in every so often, and laughing and falling over periodically. Reminds me of Anna Nicole Smith. Then I wound up at the playground where of course there are more kids running around and playing, and it made me want to have a kid and bring it to the park and teach it how to fish and fall over properly. Don't worry, I'm not going to be reckless and just go have some kids. I mean, what do I look like, an NBA star? I'd end up writing alimony checks faster than an intern stenographer at a Bobby Brown trial.

I've also decided that I really want to get into music. I'm going to record the two songs that I've written at a studio, and write one or two more, and record those into a demo cd. Then I'll send it out to Christian Music companies and see what happens. I'm really excited about that. I love writing, and I can convey plenty of thought and emotion just in words, but when you add music to those words and the music fits the emotion, there is nothing quite like that experience. You just float on that music and you feel every up and down in the notes and the voice; it's almost surreal. So there you go, that's your update on The D. I'll be back soon with posts. I won't forget you!! By the way, I'm becoming a big fan of Lyle Lovett, who reminds me of Gaius Claudius, but without the cool name. Lyle does have him on the hair though, that is some damn cool hair my friends; damn cool hair.

I can't think

I'm just so drained right now. I can't wait for Monday to come, a nice day off well spent. After my last week, next week, I'll have a few days off, but they will be used for cleaning and packing. I just want a break! It's killed my writing too. There's been so many things circling around that I just feel exhausted and worn out when I get home, and after I get back from the gym, I'm devoid of any energy. Today you get a few rambling thoughts and two pieces of writing.

I feel sorry for my boss' family. Once I leave, he won't be able to go to jobs during the day because he'll have to be in the showroom, and therefore will have to schedule them before and after work. He's not home all that often already, and feels guilty about taking time off from work to be with them. Foolish, foolish man. He's got a really nice family too, I like them. They don't seem to fit with him, it's odd. I only cringe at how long it will take him to realize this and to understand that though you may provide for them financially, emotionally, they may be broke. His kids are still young and growing up, and the years will be past him before he knows it. It's just unfortunate, and I know it happens a lot in this society and country, where the prospect of moving up in the world is more delicious than spending time with your children and spouse. Unfortunately, I think a lot of this comes from selfishness, and that good ol' American drive that often doesn't know when to quit. I am guilty of such a drive a lot of times as well, but I don't have a family around, and am completely faithful to my obligations. This is losing its sense, so I'll stop it now before people start poking their eyes out.

Oh, one quick note. I have been asked now by more than a few people. Yes, I do have another blog created. No, you can't read it, and no, I won't tell you what it's about. And you can't get into it either because it's password protected, and I'm the only one with the password. Wow, that just threw a movie plot into my head, what if I got seriously hurt and lost my memory? The password would be lost forever, but what if it was more important, like a safe deposit box or something. Ok, here's the writing. Background:

Both pieces were written in a creative writing class several years ago. The first one had a specific assignment. Our prof gave us 10 not often used words. We had to use 5 of them in a 10 line poem. It didn't have to rhyme, but it did for me. See if you can figure out the 5 I used.
The second one, we were supposed to compare something to something and they have to be completely unrelated. The one I wrote on here is not the one I used for the assignment, so I don't think anyone has seen it before. Enjoy, and as always, let me know what you think in a comment. Bye for now!


You tumble into me, I tumble into you,
We obviously don't realize the results of what we do.
In a circular type fashion, our actions carry through,
you end up hurting me, so I end up hurting you.
We drain each other drastically, each sweet moment passing by,
with you I might suffer, without you I would die.
Together we can make it, but only if we try.
Promise me you'll be there, look me in the eye.
Your love keeps me alive, as a corpse I'll never be,
If I love you to the end, in the end will you love me?


Your love is like a coffee pot, freshly unpacked from its box, it stands proud on the counter; holding its white plastic head high, and sticking its glass chest out. The first pots of coffee are the best from any coffee pot I've ever had. Every day I wake up, completing my morning with the succulent coffee it provides, making even the best of Starbucks jealous. Over the years, it picks up dirt, coffee stains, and scratches upon its once gleaming white surface. The coffee now isn't the luscious cappu that I once knew, yet it still stands on the counter; stained white face held high; tainted glass chest sticking out, and still proud to be the only thing that can fully complete my morning.