Having covered both forbidden topics in my last post, religion and politics, I thought I'd just keep things light today in my blog post. I'm not going to present you with a soul searching poem or Jack Handy-like deep thought for the day. I really want to keep it light. That's why I'm going to discuss the hermenuetic dialectical errors inherent in Freudian Psychoanalytics, transposed with quantum particle mechanics. Ok, not really but I hope I got you thinking. I have no idea what that would be anyhow so I'm not even going to try. I do get a kick out of the subject and explorations of some academic research. Everyone is so concerned about the juxpositioning of this and that and the post-post-modern implications of a particular theory. It's all quite amusing.
I just have a few thoughts for the day today.
Since a freeway is called a "free way", why in the hell are there so many tolls to pay?
John asked me today why do we park on driveways and drive on parkways?
With so many people selling "Real Estate" how come we don't have Fake Estate Agents too? Or would they be False Estate Agents? I've been looking to buy some fake ground. I guess the fake estate agents are the people who sell ocean front "real estate" in Arizona and Nebraska.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
SPIRITRANSELF
Spiritual transformation of the self, is the only attempt, presently, one can make towards happiness and peace within the present self called I, or Me. Only this transformation of this I-ness can make this Me-ness, experience Happi-ness.
This is the way I see it, as I (being understood in a conventional paradigm of metaphysics, “personhood” existing in modern space/time/cultural reality) understand this situation. You “the reader, audience, otherness, one or more wavicles” (reference to quantum physical realm, of the collective consciousness/unconsciousness) may see it otherwise and your perception, opinion, interpretation, feeing; is your reality.
Attempts at “outer transformation” are dangerous missions, that I’ve come to believe are not worth the risks to good people. Fears inside potential activists, fomenters of change, motivated do-gooders, true believers in peace, are merited fears. To not recognize that challenging powers that be is a huge risk, is a gross underestimation of the long tail in human unkind-ness that will squelch real threats to status quo/special interests entrenched.
If the God above, around us and within us, however it may manifest itself, through Christ’s return, a Buddhic awakening, a harmonic convergence, a unity of one human race; if this God, a true omniscient, omnipresent force wants to transform global humanity to peaceful harmony, it alone could be the only modus operandi to accomplish such an epic, global, visionary, presence. Human weakness, the lesser qualities of human nature and behavior, preclude the overcoming of such a formidable stone wall erected to stop human social evolution to a peaceful and harmonious sphere.
My greatest hope, and that of countless historic sages, priests, great Christians, noble Buddhists, shamans, mystics, humanists, healers, humanitarians, self-less beings, and other seekers of truth and love: is that the human species will evolve to a peaceful place of harmony and mutual respect and appreciation. Perhaps one day weaponry can be dismantled, distrust can become dissolved and a spiritual blossoming of humanity’s greatest potential may emerge. Is a lasting peace possible? Must a real or proverbial Armageddon occur before this could happen? It is a great hope, one doubted in my own mind and in the minds of many thinkers, social critics, curmudgeons and realists alike. Hope is all that’s left, and it’s damn hard to even be very hopeful. When I saw the Rev. Jesse Jackson speak in front of the US Capital when I was in college, his mantra was “keep hope alive”.
The present realities of factionalism, conflict, aggression, selfishness, greed and environmental degradation do not point in the direction of such a harmony coalescing. Religious friction abounds, economic competition for resources, cultural clashes between the West and Islam, specters of further nuclear proliferation, fear of bioterror and other insidious maladies of modern creation. The best minds have brought us wonderful technologies allowing life to be more efficient and comfortable yet have provided unprecedented destructive capabalilities. If only we could trust all the leaders of state in all countries. But we are aware of the dark side of possible horrific acts rooted in hatred. I am saddened by such things and truly hope a higher power is in charge and overseeing the peaceful evolution of humanity.
Why must God, the cosmic consciousness, energy-being, prime mover, allow the world to suffer, why must humanity suffer as it has and does? Is this some sort of cruel trick or random evolution/de-evolution? Fear of an existential absurd reality, of a lonely and isolated planet theory, do not calm the mind and offer hope to the heart.
The reality is that it is not possible at this point in human evolution/technology to transform humankind, society, civilization, or our collective consciousness/unconsciousness. Humanity is deeply rooted in sectarianism, separations both real and perpetuated, (religion, ethnicity, age, looks, social status, class, socioeconomic status, gender, and the myriad other differences that I do not have the time to list).
Brave souls like Jesus, Gandhi, MLK, The Buddha and others; who have attempted transformation of humanity; have been destroyed after pursuing their failed quests. Entering the political realm with dreams of social/political transformation is not the way to Win Friends and Influence People. It is surely a way of eliciting a response from threatened interest groups or persons. Likely a violent retribution for such transgression will result. There may be a reactionary desire of some powerful elites to attack and destroy such a person or movement.
Is this the never ending sad, repeated story of humankind, human unkind? So many, at least superficially, and many quite earnestly in belief, profess to be Christ like, yet the moment an historic figure translates such ideas into social/political reality, it is met with disgust, repression and destruction. The almighty dollar or status quo of some groups or person may be challenged.
Just try going around with an open mind about people, do not make assumptions, do not assume, suspend judgment, you may do so but you may quickly find you are the object of judgment. Living with an open mind is against the grain, so much and so many are of a conformist bent. Narrow (even fully closed) minds abound. Thinking for oneself is hard work, unsettling at times; it is not a security blanket for a docile follower who has relinquished control of their own mind to the prepackaged religious or otherwise static explanations of reality and the question of why we are here on Earth. Questioning is frowned upon.
However, without change, new inventions, new technologies, new ideas, we would still be lighting fires with sticks in caves thinking the world was flat. Bringing truth out seems to be such a radical idea, it has always been. People who try to change just about anything are met with resistance, are sometimes ridiculed and opposed. But as a great quote says, the truth is later accepted after it has been opposed and ridiculed, as being self-evident.
I reiterate, if the supreme being, God, the prime mover wants humanity to reach truth, justice, peace, or whatever advanced evolutionary state it conceives to be of worthy confluence, only it may bring this change about. I do not have faith in the power of man, or woman, individually or collectively to bring about such a transformation. Humans are, rather unfortunately: aggressive, selfish, conflict-prone, territorial, egotistical, greedy, sneaky, manipulative, sometimes destructive, short-sighted, fearful, emotionally and psychologically sickened and spiritually disinterested as a whole. The material world drives the mass consumption mentality.
Why should people worry or live as if concerned about future generations of humans when they are so caught up in the present indulgences of their desires; of material goods, status, pleasure and ego-gratification? We are fully operating on our planet as if future beings do not matter and that everything here is to be used up now for our pleasure and entertainment. Several previous advanced civilizations surely believed in “treading lightly on the Earth”. For both humanitarian and spiritually higher purposes.
Yet hope remains. As it has been said repeatedly, hope does spring eternal. In Viktor Frankl’s (Existential psychologist, writer, holocaust survivor, “Man’s Search for Meaning”) darkest moments imprisoned by the German Nazi’s, he found hope in the tiniest of objects and moments. These small things provided big meaning.
The definition of the verb hope (Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 10th edition, 2000) is 1. To cherish a desire with anticipation 2. To expect with confidence: trust. The noun is defined: 1. Expectation of fulfillment or success. Hopeful is an adjective defined as 1. Having qualities which inspire hope. 2. Full of hope: inclined to hope. I only hope, (no pun intended) that whichever God/prime mover/omniscient, benevolent being, creator, you or I may believe in, that this God has given humankind hope for a reason. (Ironically I am hopeful because of the very existence of hope in people, for it hopefully serves a meaningful purpose in our human evolution/spiritual development.)
Perhaps hope is a spiritual/psychological or socially learned survival tool given to us by God to prepare us for great things to come; both in our personal lives and in the greater world. Hope that brings depth, meaning, love and peace to our internal hearts. A possible unfolding of the global, human drama and its potential culmination in a grand realization of real love, peace, collaboration, sustainability, harmony and recognition of our common humanity. Love for all, peace for all.
I explore these ideas, reflect on the realities of my life and the world around me and I make a conscious choice to love my fellow human beings regardless of any projected separating characteristics. I choose to love, to help, to be of service to my fellow sentient beings. I can only control my own thoughts and actions. I may influence others but have no control nor do I want control.
I can choose to be compassionate. To forgive those who have trespassed against me and to hope that I am forgiven by those I have harmed in the past. I want to have peace and love in my heart. I choose to have love, compassion and peace in my heart and by doing so I may be able to transform the Me-ness, I-ness of this one life into a more peaceful, loving, joyous experience. In doing so, in a small way, I can add positive energy to this world, paying it forward to others.
I have hope in myself, despite my fears and questions. I choose to have hope in humanity. I have hope that God; the one force above all that all world religions reach towards, that all individuals pray to for guidance and ask for help, I have hope that this God will reveal him/herself/it one day and that great love, truth, compassion, peace and true joy will manifest in all human hearts.
This is the way I see it, as I (being understood in a conventional paradigm of metaphysics, “personhood” existing in modern space/time/cultural reality) understand this situation. You “the reader, audience, otherness, one or more wavicles” (reference to quantum physical realm, of the collective consciousness/unconsciousness) may see it otherwise and your perception, opinion, interpretation, feeing; is your reality.
Attempts at “outer transformation” are dangerous missions, that I’ve come to believe are not worth the risks to good people. Fears inside potential activists, fomenters of change, motivated do-gooders, true believers in peace, are merited fears. To not recognize that challenging powers that be is a huge risk, is a gross underestimation of the long tail in human unkind-ness that will squelch real threats to status quo/special interests entrenched.
If the God above, around us and within us, however it may manifest itself, through Christ’s return, a Buddhic awakening, a harmonic convergence, a unity of one human race; if this God, a true omniscient, omnipresent force wants to transform global humanity to peaceful harmony, it alone could be the only modus operandi to accomplish such an epic, global, visionary, presence. Human weakness, the lesser qualities of human nature and behavior, preclude the overcoming of such a formidable stone wall erected to stop human social evolution to a peaceful and harmonious sphere.
My greatest hope, and that of countless historic sages, priests, great Christians, noble Buddhists, shamans, mystics, humanists, healers, humanitarians, self-less beings, and other seekers of truth and love: is that the human species will evolve to a peaceful place of harmony and mutual respect and appreciation. Perhaps one day weaponry can be dismantled, distrust can become dissolved and a spiritual blossoming of humanity’s greatest potential may emerge. Is a lasting peace possible? Must a real or proverbial Armageddon occur before this could happen? It is a great hope, one doubted in my own mind and in the minds of many thinkers, social critics, curmudgeons and realists alike. Hope is all that’s left, and it’s damn hard to even be very hopeful. When I saw the Rev. Jesse Jackson speak in front of the US Capital when I was in college, his mantra was “keep hope alive”.
The present realities of factionalism, conflict, aggression, selfishness, greed and environmental degradation do not point in the direction of such a harmony coalescing. Religious friction abounds, economic competition for resources, cultural clashes between the West and Islam, specters of further nuclear proliferation, fear of bioterror and other insidious maladies of modern creation. The best minds have brought us wonderful technologies allowing life to be more efficient and comfortable yet have provided unprecedented destructive capabalilities. If only we could trust all the leaders of state in all countries. But we are aware of the dark side of possible horrific acts rooted in hatred. I am saddened by such things and truly hope a higher power is in charge and overseeing the peaceful evolution of humanity.
Why must God, the cosmic consciousness, energy-being, prime mover, allow the world to suffer, why must humanity suffer as it has and does? Is this some sort of cruel trick or random evolution/de-evolution? Fear of an existential absurd reality, of a lonely and isolated planet theory, do not calm the mind and offer hope to the heart.
The reality is that it is not possible at this point in human evolution/technology to transform humankind, society, civilization, or our collective consciousness/unconsciousness. Humanity is deeply rooted in sectarianism, separations both real and perpetuated, (religion, ethnicity, age, looks, social status, class, socioeconomic status, gender, and the myriad other differences that I do not have the time to list).
Brave souls like Jesus, Gandhi, MLK, The Buddha and others; who have attempted transformation of humanity; have been destroyed after pursuing their failed quests. Entering the political realm with dreams of social/political transformation is not the way to Win Friends and Influence People. It is surely a way of eliciting a response from threatened interest groups or persons. Likely a violent retribution for such transgression will result. There may be a reactionary desire of some powerful elites to attack and destroy such a person or movement.
Is this the never ending sad, repeated story of humankind, human unkind? So many, at least superficially, and many quite earnestly in belief, profess to be Christ like, yet the moment an historic figure translates such ideas into social/political reality, it is met with disgust, repression and destruction. The almighty dollar or status quo of some groups or person may be challenged.
Just try going around with an open mind about people, do not make assumptions, do not assume, suspend judgment, you may do so but you may quickly find you are the object of judgment. Living with an open mind is against the grain, so much and so many are of a conformist bent. Narrow (even fully closed) minds abound. Thinking for oneself is hard work, unsettling at times; it is not a security blanket for a docile follower who has relinquished control of their own mind to the prepackaged religious or otherwise static explanations of reality and the question of why we are here on Earth. Questioning is frowned upon.
However, without change, new inventions, new technologies, new ideas, we would still be lighting fires with sticks in caves thinking the world was flat. Bringing truth out seems to be such a radical idea, it has always been. People who try to change just about anything are met with resistance, are sometimes ridiculed and opposed. But as a great quote says, the truth is later accepted after it has been opposed and ridiculed, as being self-evident.
I reiterate, if the supreme being, God, the prime mover wants humanity to reach truth, justice, peace, or whatever advanced evolutionary state it conceives to be of worthy confluence, only it may bring this change about. I do not have faith in the power of man, or woman, individually or collectively to bring about such a transformation. Humans are, rather unfortunately: aggressive, selfish, conflict-prone, territorial, egotistical, greedy, sneaky, manipulative, sometimes destructive, short-sighted, fearful, emotionally and psychologically sickened and spiritually disinterested as a whole. The material world drives the mass consumption mentality.
Why should people worry or live as if concerned about future generations of humans when they are so caught up in the present indulgences of their desires; of material goods, status, pleasure and ego-gratification? We are fully operating on our planet as if future beings do not matter and that everything here is to be used up now for our pleasure and entertainment. Several previous advanced civilizations surely believed in “treading lightly on the Earth”. For both humanitarian and spiritually higher purposes.
Yet hope remains. As it has been said repeatedly, hope does spring eternal. In Viktor Frankl’s (Existential psychologist, writer, holocaust survivor, “Man’s Search for Meaning”) darkest moments imprisoned by the German Nazi’s, he found hope in the tiniest of objects and moments. These small things provided big meaning.
The definition of the verb hope (Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 10th edition, 2000) is 1. To cherish a desire with anticipation 2. To expect with confidence: trust. The noun is defined: 1. Expectation of fulfillment or success. Hopeful is an adjective defined as 1. Having qualities which inspire hope. 2. Full of hope: inclined to hope. I only hope, (no pun intended) that whichever God/prime mover/omniscient, benevolent being, creator, you or I may believe in, that this God has given humankind hope for a reason. (Ironically I am hopeful because of the very existence of hope in people, for it hopefully serves a meaningful purpose in our human evolution/spiritual development.)
Perhaps hope is a spiritual/psychological or socially learned survival tool given to us by God to prepare us for great things to come; both in our personal lives and in the greater world. Hope that brings depth, meaning, love and peace to our internal hearts. A possible unfolding of the global, human drama and its potential culmination in a grand realization of real love, peace, collaboration, sustainability, harmony and recognition of our common humanity. Love for all, peace for all.
I explore these ideas, reflect on the realities of my life and the world around me and I make a conscious choice to love my fellow human beings regardless of any projected separating characteristics. I choose to love, to help, to be of service to my fellow sentient beings. I can only control my own thoughts and actions. I may influence others but have no control nor do I want control.
I can choose to be compassionate. To forgive those who have trespassed against me and to hope that I am forgiven by those I have harmed in the past. I want to have peace and love in my heart. I choose to have love, compassion and peace in my heart and by doing so I may be able to transform the Me-ness, I-ness of this one life into a more peaceful, loving, joyous experience. In doing so, in a small way, I can add positive energy to this world, paying it forward to others.
I have hope in myself, despite my fears and questions. I choose to have hope in humanity. I have hope that God; the one force above all that all world religions reach towards, that all individuals pray to for guidance and ask for help, I have hope that this God will reveal him/herself/it one day and that great love, truth, compassion, peace and true joy will manifest in all human hearts.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
On the eve of my soul's reconstruction : A Poem
center of gravity on my dysfunction
skyward trajectory of soul intention
my future, co-created invention
the pandoran box opened indigenous smoked blunt
I gaze, intent to a prophetic rising sun
onto a railway line headed for north
the best, mentioned intention put forth
fighting entropy i cling to the sound
one hand, is clapping it was edgy and profound
riding the moon circular path
rise to meet the summoned sage and her staff
a soul left to rise from amidst ash
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Futurespeakeasy : A Poem
when the mystical
becomes the conventional
when the phenomenal
becomes the liturgical
when the mysterial
becomes the spectacle
all bets are off, the dog track is closed
the mission of the mind is not fruitioned
no longer envisioned
beyond reason history revisioned
pawns of futurespeak society reimprisoned
slaves to electronic interface
mimic gods of war waxing and waning
pure critique of vast reason
orwell exhumation the grand illusion
surveillance culture rooted in watching
the whole-conscious market monitors
the unconscious behavior of the nickelodianized
craft
becomes the conventional
when the phenomenal
becomes the liturgical
when the mysterial
becomes the spectacle
all bets are off, the dog track is closed
the mission of the mind is not fruitioned
no longer envisioned
beyond reason history revisioned
pawns of futurespeak society reimprisoned
slaves to electronic interface
mimic gods of war waxing and waning
pure critique of vast reason
orwell exhumation the grand illusion
surveillance culture rooted in watching
the whole-conscious market monitors
the unconscious behavior of the nickelodianized
craft
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Coldplay acoustic version "Viva la Vida"
I just love this song and found this acoustic version on the wonderful Youtube, hope you like it too. Enjoy.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Frustration : A Poem of sorts
the faxing of documents lost in the piles
the calls made to voicemails lost in the dustbin
unreturned messages unresponded to follow ups
it's frustrated incorporated playing in my mind
the soul asylum song speaks to me in this time of irritation
asking for managers to make it right
transferred to departments only to be sent back again
tired by voice prompts to speak to a human being
only to find your fax is once again lost in the shuffle
this is happening over and over for a month or so
trying to keep cool amidst the mounting frustration
the patience depleted the to-do lists piling up
why can't it just go smoothly like water off the back
why can't it just run like swiss clocks and be on time like german trains
what the hell is happening i feel reduced to second class inhuman being
frustration, i beg of you
release yourself from this nagging grip
allow me to return to a positive path of progress
let me go stop holding me back i can no longer accept you
this poem marks the end of my relationship with you, goodbye frustration
the calls made to voicemails lost in the dustbin
unreturned messages unresponded to follow ups
it's frustrated incorporated playing in my mind
the soul asylum song speaks to me in this time of irritation
asking for managers to make it right
transferred to departments only to be sent back again
tired by voice prompts to speak to a human being
only to find your fax is once again lost in the shuffle
this is happening over and over for a month or so
trying to keep cool amidst the mounting frustration
the patience depleted the to-do lists piling up
why can't it just go smoothly like water off the back
why can't it just run like swiss clocks and be on time like german trains
what the hell is happening i feel reduced to second class inhuman being
frustration, i beg of you
release yourself from this nagging grip
allow me to return to a positive path of progress
let me go stop holding me back i can no longer accept you
this poem marks the end of my relationship with you, goodbye frustration
Friday, February 20, 2009
Peace
I love the above photo of Waging Peace. What a concept in a world so riddled with conflict and problems. Is it really that hard for people to just get along with each other? It would seem that peaceful coexistence of people, nations and cultures would be the way to go and we could all sleep better knowing peace and less conflict were on the horizon. If the world leaders could focus more on peace than on conflict we would be on the right path.
We share one planet and humans all have much more in common than we have differences. Our diversity should be respected and revered, there is beauty in diversity. Instead of building more weapons we should be building bridges of friendship and good will towards one another. We are all interdependent on each other, we need one another. We need to put the "humane" back into Humanity. I sent out good vibes of positive intentions of peace and I hope you can do the same. If we all change our thinking and focus on peace instead of competition and conflict we can build a better world. Peace to you and to all of our fellow human beings.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Failed Communication : A Poem
tried to say it once, no response
so I sent a note
warning: please respond within 10 days or else
your name will be removed from the mailing list
so what are you trying to say you don't even know your audience
just lost thoughts on a page
alienation from your fellows your words
try and say it right
right a grammatical wrong
right that wrong, I'm now writing wrong, see! wrong
sent it out move it along
mass communique, patterns of meaningless ink on a page
yesterday is history, tommorow a mystery so enjoy today
listen to what this answering machine message says
keep plugging away, just can't wait to get away
with this obtuse ridden textual play
say it scream it mean it intone it bemoan it
scream it IT
pattern form emotion commotion word play
jumping around in the hay
no metaphors just somthing to convey
there's no escaping having something to say
one cannot not communicate today
a failed communication day
so I sent a note
warning: please respond within 10 days or else
your name will be removed from the mailing list
so what are you trying to say you don't even know your audience
just lost thoughts on a page
alienation from your fellows your words
try and say it right
right a grammatical wrong
right that wrong, I'm now writing wrong, see! wrong
sent it out move it along
mass communique, patterns of meaningless ink on a page
yesterday is history, tommorow a mystery so enjoy today
listen to what this answering machine message says
keep plugging away, just can't wait to get away
with this obtuse ridden textual play
say it scream it mean it intone it bemoan it
scream it IT
pattern form emotion commotion word play
jumping around in the hay
no metaphors just somthing to convey
there's no escaping having something to say
one cannot not communicate today
a failed communication day
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
On Being Human : A Quote
"You must understand the whole of life, not just one little part of it. That is why you must read, that is why you must look at the skies, that is why you must sing and dance, and write poems and suffer and understand, for all that is life."
- Jiddu Krishnamurti, philosopher
- Jiddu Krishnamurti, philosopher
Monday, February 16, 2009
Hope. Fear. Reality. : A Poem
Thesis. Antithesis. Synthesis.
Hope.
desirous of so much
hopeful of grander things to come
wanting to leave one's mark on the world
Fear.
afraid of so much
dreading a worsening situation ahead
not wanting to become a genetic time bomb
Reality.
learning to accept what is
coming to terms with the harsh realities and treasured memories
being at peace within, accept that it is all meant to have been and become
Bob Mould, Egoverride video
This is one of my favorite songs by Bob Mould. If you are not familiar with Bob Mould check out his earlier works. He began in Minneapolis in a great band, Husker Du in the 80's. Later forming Sugar in the early nineties and he has had a solo career since. His latest cd "District Line" has just been released this month. Bob is multi-talented and has had a major influence on many post-punk bands. I have seen him in concert 3 times and can say he is one of the best performers around. Enjoy the video.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
San Franciso Impresssions : A Poem
alcatraz and golden gate set the mood
the hills and ocean a backdrop to fusion z00
crack zones
homeless homes
images and styles mixing and merging
cultures clashing
far from home
doc martin shoe wearing
anchor steam beer drinking
sour dough bread baking
kind of town
arts and homeless shopping carts
tourist traps and x-rated sex rats
freaks and industrial styled crap
sirens behind police traps
alcohol and good food
poets been street named
for all its problems and dark games
the city by the bay is not shamed
Friday, February 13, 2009
Friday the 13th : A New Concept
1. T
2. H
3. I
4. R
5. T
6. E
7. E
8. N
9. L
10. I
11. N
12. E
13. S
In commemoration of today, Friday the 13th, 2009: I post the above conceptual, self-referential idea in numbers and letters. If done on separate pieces of paper: there are also thirteen pages, each numbered from 1 to 13.
That was my original concept of the idea, created on pieces of paper. I originally had this idea back in 1994 and today's date made me recall the idea. Self-referential ideas and conceptual art have long been of interest to me. This sentence is dedicated to Friday the 13th, 2009. This second sentence refers back to the first sentence. ....BLOG is a four-lettered word....
2. H
3. I
4. R
5. T
6. E
7. E
8. N
9. L
10. I
11. N
12. E
13. S
In commemoration of today, Friday the 13th, 2009: I post the above conceptual, self-referential idea in numbers and letters. If done on separate pieces of paper: there are also thirteen pages, each numbered from 1 to 13.
That was my original concept of the idea, created on pieces of paper. I originally had this idea back in 1994 and today's date made me recall the idea. Self-referential ideas and conceptual art have long been of interest to me. This sentence is dedicated to Friday the 13th, 2009. This second sentence refers back to the first sentence. ....BLOG is a four-lettered word....
Thursday, February 12, 2009
I need a bath : A poem
I heard on the radio the other day
that love is nothing more than a chemical bath of the brain
The brain becomes ensconced
with natural opiates and endorphins
and other "feel good" serotonin-like compounds
Love is reduced to a set of biochemical reactions through neural networks
a mere cerebral biological event
If this reductionist belief is in fact true
I'm feeling dirty
I need a bath
that love is nothing more than a chemical bath of the brain
The brain becomes ensconced
with natural opiates and endorphins
and other "feel good" serotonin-like compounds
Love is reduced to a set of biochemical reactions through neural networks
a mere cerebral biological event
If this reductionist belief is in fact true
I'm feeling dirty
I need a bath
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Driving : A Poem
driving
journeys to know where?
on a journey no destination in mind
the road becomes zenified
lit up in the night, trucks roar past
driving
diesel explorations to somewhere
on a road trip caught up in the moment
the flow of speed rapid caught in the momentness
engines charging the sense of time fades
driving
like motion unfettered by the wind
on a mind trip feeling endorphins kick in
the cerebral explorations as the mind wanders
stopping at truck stops to observe the night life
driving
a healthy stock of alternative rock music to go
on a music kick jammin' out to an ethereal tune
the past is not so far behind moving into the future
diet coke keeps my adrenaline in motion with the lanes
driving
a pure simple pleasure one only needs a set of wheels
on a map or driving blind deep into the sweet darkness
the window down smoke blowing out breathing in nicotine
i treasure the drive it is a blissful harmony highway
Web 2.0, blogging, tech aptitude, a lot to learn..
I have so much to learn. I am barely up to speed on RSS feeders, social bookmarking sites, gadgets, widgets, tag clouds, html code, API, OpenID and the other jargon creations of the blogosphere/internet. I am learning. It's a lot of fun actually. I have to say I am very much enjoying this blogging experience. It's growing on me. It could be my healthy addiction.
My creativity has been re-ignited and I feel more alive. The creative side of me was shut off for so long that it's as refreshing as cool water on my face to be blogging away. There is so much more to learn...I am just enjoying the ride. To you, my friendly and kind reader, thank you for your patience as I get fully up to speed with this new medium. It is definetely a work in progress. Like all things in life: it is a process and an evolutionary quest.
I added the Tag Cloud pictured above to show the diverse aspects of Web 2.0 that have grown over the past years throughout web technology. I need to let you know, I have this thing with Tag Clouds. I just love them and really want one on my blog. What an interesting graphical display of data. I'm still working on figuring out how to add one to the blog. Me wants Tag Cloud now! More on that later. Enjoy your day, I hope it is both happy and harmonious.
For now, I have SO much to learn...
Monday, February 9, 2009
The Youth Hosteler
Seeing the world
Half on the cheap, the other half
Well, that's from daddy's keep.
Consuming the low-end experience
Say, where are the cheap eats?
Australian, German's and UK's reign,
in this mobile wannabe chic, subculture strain
Six months on the road and they've seen it all man
Multi-cultural wanderer, no pretentions, sticking it to man
Black Doc Martins, earings, she walks down Bohemia Street
Just one more cigarette please..
Let's cruise the thrift shops for some cool used clothes
Don't wanna let on the money my family's got back in Brisbane
Need that transient, worn in, (I'm no Yuppie) gritty stance
Really, it's the cafe's, bars and discos where it's at
Hey, let's go to that bar Vesuvio's,
Where Jack Kerouac drank himself to death
Amtrak, Greyhound bus pass, travelers cheques and overgrown backpacks
obligatory journals and jeans stone-washed.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Ode to the demise of the Typewriter
Words spill out the mind onto the electrified monitor screen virtually
The click clack days of the typewriter gone
The soft touch of the computer keyboard
Not giving way to the experiential, grit act of typing
A lost art in this world of speed, commerce and techno-mania
The typewriter was an instrument to be played, allowing a physical stream of consciousness
A physical act with live sound, fresh ink, clumsy sounds, a visceral dimension of sound and space
Changing empty sheets of typing paper, using correction fluid or white out
This process has been supplanted by the ease of backspacing, immediate deletion
In this easing of typing, this creature comfort, a huge loss has occured
The typewriter as medium is dead. The medium was the message. A medium gone
Thrown like so much into the dust bowl of history
Old typewriters now for sale in antique stores as cultural/technology relics of a communication past, an age gone, a demise
The evolution of communication moving at lighting speed
Leaving in its wake a lost machine of elegance and simplicity
The glory of the empty page of paper, the fresh ink, the key strokes, the sounds clacking, the clumsy
process of revision gone, supplanted by the ease of computer speed and efficiency
I want my old typewriter back. I wrote my college entrance esssays late at night on these relics
I wrote my first love letters there, I wrote my first poems at 2 am, worried the noise might awaken my father
I, caffeine driven dropped ashes from clove cigarettes onto the pages once, not fearing the destruction of a $1000 laptop
The IBM Selectric was my introduction into a creative realm, one I would lose myself in
as the words flowed from my mind onto a clean sheet awaiting creative production of ideas
I took great pleasure in seeing the fresh ink dry on the page
The very real text font of a typewriter gone. Replaced by replica new courier fonts of virtual ease
The text look of the typewriter is often used in graphic arts on packaging drawing the viewer back to a more simple time
Typing was a lot like painting with letters and word contruction
It has become virtual life, disconnected from the gut, electronically digitized
Desensitized, sanitized, futurized, electrified, homogenized, declassified
The computer keyboard makes it easy. Word processors make it fast. Spellchecks make it highly functional. No one speaks of this loss. Younger generations unaware of the beauty of typing on typewriters. Just as the joy of putting a vinyl lp on a phonograph, hearing that scratchy sound before a song lit up the speakers and room with edgy sound. The message is the medium
I want to march into the coffee house and plop down the clunky, heavy typewriter and begin cranking out noisy poems, filling the air with the crackle of words hitting the page not so softly
Annoying my latte drinking neighbors with the very real sound
of the creative freedom of ink
I miss you typewriter. I don't know exactly when you died Your slow fade much like the decline of the newspaper has been felt. I hope you reemerge one day. Appreciated again
I too have moved on to embrace the computer keyboard out of necessity and adaption to the present future reality. But I will not forget you. Your spirit lives on and I know I am not alone in my sense of loss
I am going to find one of you at a garage sale or flea market and have you bronzed and have another to use. Even though I might not be able to find an ink ribbon to use, I will play you as a musical instrument to hear your sound and fury Click, clack, hit the return and grind onward
Remember the typewriter? Recall the lost art? Do you ever miss the old machine?
If you do, "type" back a comment or reply virtually on your soft, computer screen in remembrance and in recognition of the machine that once revolutionized the art of communication.
The click clack days of the typewriter gone
The soft touch of the computer keyboard
Not giving way to the experiential, grit act of typing
A lost art in this world of speed, commerce and techno-mania
The typewriter was an instrument to be played, allowing a physical stream of consciousness
A physical act with live sound, fresh ink, clumsy sounds, a visceral dimension of sound and space
Changing empty sheets of typing paper, using correction fluid or white out
This process has been supplanted by the ease of backspacing, immediate deletion
In this easing of typing, this creature comfort, a huge loss has occured
The typewriter as medium is dead. The medium was the message. A medium gone
Thrown like so much into the dust bowl of history
Old typewriters now for sale in antique stores as cultural/technology relics of a communication past, an age gone, a demise
The evolution of communication moving at lighting speed
Leaving in its wake a lost machine of elegance and simplicity
The glory of the empty page of paper, the fresh ink, the key strokes, the sounds clacking, the clumsy
process of revision gone, supplanted by the ease of computer speed and efficiency
I want my old typewriter back. I wrote my college entrance esssays late at night on these relics
I wrote my first love letters there, I wrote my first poems at 2 am, worried the noise might awaken my father
I, caffeine driven dropped ashes from clove cigarettes onto the pages once, not fearing the destruction of a $1000 laptop
The IBM Selectric was my introduction into a creative realm, one I would lose myself in
as the words flowed from my mind onto a clean sheet awaiting creative production of ideas
I took great pleasure in seeing the fresh ink dry on the page
The very real text font of a typewriter gone. Replaced by replica new courier fonts of virtual ease
The text look of the typewriter is often used in graphic arts on packaging drawing the viewer back to a more simple time
Typing was a lot like painting with letters and word contruction
It has become virtual life, disconnected from the gut, electronically digitized
Desensitized, sanitized, futurized, electrified, homogenized, declassified
The computer keyboard makes it easy. Word processors make it fast. Spellchecks make it highly functional. No one speaks of this loss. Younger generations unaware of the beauty of typing on typewriters. Just as the joy of putting a vinyl lp on a phonograph, hearing that scratchy sound before a song lit up the speakers and room with edgy sound. The message is the medium
I want to march into the coffee house and plop down the clunky, heavy typewriter and begin cranking out noisy poems, filling the air with the crackle of words hitting the page not so softly
Annoying my latte drinking neighbors with the very real sound
of the creative freedom of ink
I miss you typewriter. I don't know exactly when you died Your slow fade much like the decline of the newspaper has been felt. I hope you reemerge one day. Appreciated again
I too have moved on to embrace the computer keyboard out of necessity and adaption to the present future reality. But I will not forget you. Your spirit lives on and I know I am not alone in my sense of loss
I am going to find one of you at a garage sale or flea market and have you bronzed and have another to use. Even though I might not be able to find an ink ribbon to use, I will play you as a musical instrument to hear your sound and fury Click, clack, hit the return and grind onward
Remember the typewriter? Recall the lost art? Do you ever miss the old machine?
If you do, "type" back a comment or reply virtually on your soft, computer screen in remembrance and in recognition of the machine that once revolutionized the art of communication.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Periodic Disaffirmations : A Poem
Life. is. not. a. bowl. of. cherries.
We. are. not. affirming. ourselves.
This. is. not. a. personal. note. to. you.
Academic. poetry. this. is. not.
We. cannot. not. communicate.
You. do. not. live. in. a. vacuum. cleaner.
Prayer. is. not. the. most. effective. results. getter.
Big. business. does. not. have. a. human. face.
A. cure. for. cancer. is. not. a. real. priority.
Writing. poetry. is. not. about. corporate. ladders.
Language. is. not. about. reality.
I. am. not. Stuart. Smalley. or. Dale. Carnegie.
Tourism. isn't. about. quaint. cultures. and. postcards.
This. is. not. a. best. selling. self. help. poem.
The. world. is. not. becoming. a. better. place to. live.
Coca. Cola. isn't. about. quenching. thirst.
Life. isn't. conducive. to. self. actualization.
We. are. not. affirming. ourselves.
This. is. not. a. personal. note. to. you.
Academic. poetry. this. is. not.
We. cannot. not. communicate.
You. do. not. live. in. a. vacuum. cleaner.
Prayer. is. not. the. most. effective. results. getter.
Big. business. does. not. have. a. human. face.
A. cure. for. cancer. is. not. a. real. priority.
Writing. poetry. is. not. about. corporate. ladders.
Language. is. not. about. reality.
I. am. not. Stuart. Smalley. or. Dale. Carnegie.
Tourism. isn't. about. quaint. cultures. and. postcards.
This. is. not. a. best. selling. self. help. poem.
The. world. is. not. becoming. a. better. place to. live.
Coca. Cola. isn't. about. quenching. thirst.
Life. isn't. conducive. to. self. actualization.
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