Breasts are not desirable for men to own. I've known this for as long as I have been able to comprehend that I got an erection everytime an attractive woman ran down the beach, got caught in a brisk rain, or just walked into the room. (I've yet to have an insufficient amount of flustered sexual tension. I suppose all the animal sacrifice I did as a child really did pay off.) Although, no content hetero man aspires to have a cup size, thirty cheese-coneys later, one realizes it is an inevitable consequence.
I am overweight. If I was to observe to the BMI scale I would have to consider myself 'morbidly' obese. Morbidly Obese, like the word obese isn't bad enough. I can't help but thinking about melted cheese driping down the cracks of double chins, like a loogie on a chain linked fence and a tongue like the whipping tail of the bacterial flagellum spinning several species of meat into a gullet sufficiently lubricated with Hidden Valley's finest. That is morbid.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
For: David
I hear a death rattle,
from the wind.
Death of Winter,
new life of Spring.
There runs a creek,
I dont know where... I see only brick.
When the diembodied voices meet with my ear,
there abounds no wonder of who is there or here.
I wonder for two men,
of whom, without, I am malcontent.
One rests far away,
the other rattles in thought.
from the wind.
Death of Winter,
new life of Spring.
There runs a creek,
I dont know where... I see only brick.
When the diembodied voices meet with my ear,
there abounds no wonder of who is there or here.
I wonder for two men,
of whom, without, I am malcontent.
One rests far away,
the other rattles in thought.
Drudge-inspired future embarrassment.
Painstakingly, the last few months, I have came to this screen several times in anticipation of something clever to write about or at least to sieve my qualms, so as to refrain from punching in C T $ 7 on my predicomp and Dresdening my family and friends. (I've never quite understood why the movie "Predator" was implanted with the samurainian ethics of seppuku or why an alien would travel millions of light-years to earth to shoot fish in a barrel in the middle of the jungles of Guetamala. But I guess my logic never stopped me from smashing a box turtle with an over-sized rock or overturning the Monopoly board when my constituents bought St. James Place and Tennesee Ave.)
I once wrote, "Its seems as though my understanding marauds, not the conscious mind, but a plain of regression." As time moves ahead it seems that this theme resonates in my mind. I've always fumble-bumbled around analyzing what I could have done to change situations: I would have gone to college if I didn't like punk rock, I wouldn't have needed college if I had some guts, I wouldn't need a woman if I had a dog to keep me warm, my dog keeps shitting all over the goddamn floor. I am misunderstanding and I am extremely distrustful of myself. I can have nothing premium. I will pick at it, examine it and bend it untill it breaks or hates me. College would have been fun if I knew what I wanted to be, and if I was realistic about what I could be. Punk rock would have been ideal when I was young and still pissed off and I would have started to read Rollins then. I could never live without a woman, but I could live without my scrutiny, and it's never ending ability to muddle any number of common expieriences with that woman. I've never wanted to be more normal in my life. I want to domesticate myself and nature-willing, marry a like-minded woman.
I could spend hours telling people what I want out of life, more often that not though I am just trying to impress them with my diahrea of ambitions. If I understand that I have nothing coming for me and no predestined plan or hope, only then can I accomplish anything that I want for this life. Nietzsche once said, "Hope in the future is amoung the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man." I once was abhorred at the thought of throwing my lantern on the ground, but now I realize how much freedom there is in it. Spiteful comments aside, respectfully disagreed, no afterlife, no meaning except what we make.
I once wrote, "Its seems as though my understanding marauds, not the conscious mind, but a plain of regression." As time moves ahead it seems that this theme resonates in my mind. I've always fumble-bumbled around analyzing what I could have done to change situations: I would have gone to college if I didn't like punk rock, I wouldn't have needed college if I had some guts, I wouldn't need a woman if I had a dog to keep me warm, my dog keeps shitting all over the goddamn floor. I am misunderstanding and I am extremely distrustful of myself. I can have nothing premium. I will pick at it, examine it and bend it untill it breaks or hates me. College would have been fun if I knew what I wanted to be, and if I was realistic about what I could be. Punk rock would have been ideal when I was young and still pissed off and I would have started to read Rollins then. I could never live without a woman, but I could live without my scrutiny, and it's never ending ability to muddle any number of common expieriences with that woman. I've never wanted to be more normal in my life. I want to domesticate myself and nature-willing, marry a like-minded woman.
I could spend hours telling people what I want out of life, more often that not though I am just trying to impress them with my diahrea of ambitions. If I understand that I have nothing coming for me and no predestined plan or hope, only then can I accomplish anything that I want for this life. Nietzsche once said, "Hope in the future is amoung the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man." I once was abhorred at the thought of throwing my lantern on the ground, but now I realize how much freedom there is in it. Spiteful comments aside, respectfully disagreed, no afterlife, no meaning except what we make.
Working on an idea.
I set out to write in this online journal once per week and as a testament of my will, completed one in addition to the poem I wrote, to which my mother accidentally proof-read and adorned Rumpke mountain with as if she were setting the angel Gabriel upon our Christmas tree, but with much more haste. Anyways, all thanks to Zuul, I am one of the lucky Americans that can call themselves employed. I'm not just employed, but sort of called. It's of my opinion that jobs are called callings, to reaffirm the illusory thought that whatever diarrhea river we are paddling our fecal formed canoe down is part of some meaningful journey and it's not until the boat melts away like paraffin, leaving us with a face-full of shit that we realize, "This isn't a paddle, it's a fucking thorn branch!" All jest aside though, there is a great value in considering your work more than a paycheck. (Especially if your work has anything to do with humans.)
It's often hard not to invoke importance into the drudgeries of life. It makes perfect sense to me why we search for meaning in our happiness and in our misfortune. More often than not, in misfortune, (The bible provides us with numerous examples and explanations of our suffering, telling us all the while it is necessary for our acceptance into the kingdom of g*d. In Galatians 6:7-9 g*d tells us that we suffer because of our own ignorance. In Hebrews 12:6 we hear the cadence of our mother's indifference when she deceitfully tells us "He only hits you, cause he loves you", while she rubs peroxide on our fresh cigarette burn. These examples are just the foreskin of the joyous wisdom found in the bible and I enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoy playing Russian roulette with a crossbow loaded with a barbed wire arrow.) but I have a spat with those who think that there is existential value in vacuous nonsensical bullshit. (What the fuck is Glee?) Thoreau spent a whole chapter of Walden going over the expenses he incurred during his seclusion. Perhaps if he were still alive I would write him a letter to ask why he was unable to foresee the inflation of our money and also why he thought it was important for the world to consider being denderphilic hermits. There is no drought of trumpery when you belittle time in such a gruesome manor.
When I was young I regarded time in its proper discourse, pleading and even crying for 15 more minutes to play Dungeons and Dragons. Now, I can't wait to get home and watch Jay Leno with his punchlines that are as predictable as the consequence of washing x-lax tablets down with prune juice, a lot of shit. We have all been disenfranchised by time, finding comfort in the throes of indifference. Once upon a shared custody, I sat with my father watching the daily news, as was uncommon for my father and I. I can say in all sincerity that it was one of the only times I remember feeling as though my father wanted to teach me something. A commercial came on for some humanitarian aide organization asking for donations to save all the half-deformed mistrodden children of impoverished nations. It was at this point, when little Rafael and Ladaya, their head's bandaged, feet bare, in shrouds of Turin, pleading for relief in their native languages, my father exclaimed, "They should grind all those motherfuckers up into dog food, at least then they would be useful for something." I am still ashamed that I nervously laughed along with such a refined example of entitled stupidity.
I knew very early in life that my father would not be my model for fatherdom. A model for God, but surely not what I think of when I hear the word "daddy". My father, if of any signifigance to my life in retrospect, will be considered a wonderful warning against the consequences of professoring impotence. I have no wrap-up thought or in conclusion to offer a summary of my thoughts. Instead, I will just stop where I started. I can no longer sympathize with my father's generational idea that your employment has no meaning but there is meaning in being employed, that idea has no value. I know now that there is no meaning, besides that which I create and of course more importantly that which was created for me. No, I'm not advocating Christianity, Islam, or Judaism. (Surely these were all CREATED by men and sustained my men and women), but I wouldn't advocate malicious delusions to anyone. (Even those that DO deserve suffering.) If you can find purpose in your work, exploit it and be joyous in your laboring.
It's often hard not to invoke importance into the drudgeries of life. It makes perfect sense to me why we search for meaning in our happiness and in our misfortune. More often than not, in misfortune, (The bible provides us with numerous examples and explanations of our suffering, telling us all the while it is necessary for our acceptance into the kingdom of g*d. In Galatians 6:7-9 g*d tells us that we suffer because of our own ignorance. In Hebrews 12:6 we hear the cadence of our mother's indifference when she deceitfully tells us "He only hits you, cause he loves you", while she rubs peroxide on our fresh cigarette burn. These examples are just the foreskin of the joyous wisdom found in the bible and I enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoy playing Russian roulette with a crossbow loaded with a barbed wire arrow.) but I have a spat with those who think that there is existential value in vacuous nonsensical bullshit. (What the fuck is Glee?) Thoreau spent a whole chapter of Walden going over the expenses he incurred during his seclusion. Perhaps if he were still alive I would write him a letter to ask why he was unable to foresee the inflation of our money and also why he thought it was important for the world to consider being denderphilic hermits. There is no drought of trumpery when you belittle time in such a gruesome manor.
When I was young I regarded time in its proper discourse, pleading and even crying for 15 more minutes to play Dungeons and Dragons. Now, I can't wait to get home and watch Jay Leno with his punchlines that are as predictable as the consequence of washing x-lax tablets down with prune juice, a lot of shit. We have all been disenfranchised by time, finding comfort in the throes of indifference. Once upon a shared custody, I sat with my father watching the daily news, as was uncommon for my father and I. I can say in all sincerity that it was one of the only times I remember feeling as though my father wanted to teach me something. A commercial came on for some humanitarian aide organization asking for donations to save all the half-deformed mistrodden children of impoverished nations. It was at this point, when little Rafael and Ladaya, their head's bandaged, feet bare, in shrouds of Turin, pleading for relief in their native languages, my father exclaimed, "They should grind all those motherfuckers up into dog food, at least then they would be useful for something." I am still ashamed that I nervously laughed along with such a refined example of entitled stupidity.
I knew very early in life that my father would not be my model for fatherdom. A model for God, but surely not what I think of when I hear the word "daddy". My father, if of any signifigance to my life in retrospect, will be considered a wonderful warning against the consequences of professoring impotence. I have no wrap-up thought or in conclusion to offer a summary of my thoughts. Instead, I will just stop where I started. I can no longer sympathize with my father's generational idea that your employment has no meaning but there is meaning in being employed, that idea has no value. I know now that there is no meaning, besides that which I create and of course more importantly that which was created for me. No, I'm not advocating Christianity, Islam, or Judaism. (Surely these were all CREATED by men and sustained my men and women), but I wouldn't advocate malicious delusions to anyone. (Even those that DO deserve suffering.) If you can find purpose in your work, exploit it and be joyous in your laboring.
My first argument as an Atheist.
Kevin:
It is not my meaning to offend anyone or to be crass but I have been reading an essay by Bertrand Russell and I decided that I should open a certain quotation up for discussion, since peoples views are often not presented thoughtfully in person. So it goes: "If God knew in advance the sins of which man would be guilty, He was clearly responsible for all the consequences of those sins when He created man."
Hollie:
the Lord is perfect and blameless. although he knew what we would do & choose, he gave us that choice & free will. light or darkness, love or hate. forcing someone to love and obey you would not be true love, right? he wants us to WANT to love him. and we would, if we understood God's true character. i think that when we understand that it's all on us. we are of desperate need of the Lord. and even though we don't deserve anything (but death), he gives us everything and more (mercy, and then grace!) the only appropriate response is adoration.
Drew:
on a lesser scale...I have three daughters. I love them and want them to grow up knowing both love and discipline. However, I do know that at some point in their lives, they will disobey me or just blatantly do something wrong. So, since I already know that this will happen, am I responsible for the consequences of their actions?
To answer your question directly; just because God knew in advance, doesn't make Him guilty. If a man lost in sin chooses to refuse the love and grace freely extended to him by God, and so condemns himself, who are we to blame that condemnation on the one who offered redemption?
Great question though Kev.
Kevin:
Hollie, free will is a beautiful concept to those who are not victims of suffering caused by another's free will, much less those who expierience famine. For of whoms will would choose to be hungry? It is apparent to me that if God both wanted our love and punished us in it's absence, that free will would not be so free as it would be recomended. I think the idea that we deserve death is extremely troubling. If every person has the inevitability of sin, then shall every person be elegible for death? Even from birth?
Drew:
if it's raining and i give you an umbrella, and you refuse the umbrella and get wet, is that my fault or yours?
Kevin:
Drew, to answer your question directly, no you will not be responsible for the wrong things your daughters will do because supposing that they will do wrong things does not identify the impact of the wrong things they will do. However if you, one day, were struck in the skull with lightening and acquired omniscience and through that sense you amassed the knowledge that your daughter would eventually, for arguments sake, champion an apartheid in America that would in time marginalize the rights of all non-white Americans and at it's apex would advocate their extermination, would you not feel compelled to take action against the inevitability of this happening?
Hollie:
kevin, i just sat here & wrote you this essay-long answer to all your statements and questions... and it mysteriously deleted itself. so i feel like i'm just supposed to tell you this: instead of constantly asking, "why, why, why?", i just encourage you to ask for revelation & the holy spirit. without those things, we will NEVER understand. there would be endless questions. when the Lord gave me revelation, it was as if he literally opened my eyes. i saw everything from a different perspective (his instead of my own) and it just clicked. it made SENSE. i described it like waking up from a coma. so i could sit here and "debate" with you for eternity and never get anywhere, or i could just tell you to seek after him. i swear you'll find him perfect.
Drew:
Kevin that doesn't answer your own question. It's not if I should take action against it. Your question was, would it be my fault? Those are two completely different questions. The answer to the first: is God responsible for our sin? absolutely not. The answer to your second question: should God take action? He did, in the form of Jesus Christ.
I hope this isn't offending you Kevin. I noticed a little sarcasm in your last reply. But I love you like a brother and I always have. You asked a question and I felt a need to answer it. I think these questions have deeper roots in you than just reading an essay. Stop listening to what your friends and society are telling you and listen to your heart. You are an amazing person and your heart is good. Deep down you know the truth. And you know that you know it.
To be continued...
It is not my meaning to offend anyone or to be crass but I have been reading an essay by Bertrand Russell and I decided that I should open a certain quotation up for discussion, since peoples views are often not presented thoughtfully in person. So it goes: "If God knew in advance the sins of which man would be guilty, He was clearly responsible for all the consequences of those sins when He created man."
Hollie:
the Lord is perfect and blameless. although he knew what we would do & choose, he gave us that choice & free will. light or darkness, love or hate. forcing someone to love and obey you would not be true love, right? he wants us to WANT to love him. and we would, if we understood God's true character. i think that when we understand that it's all on us. we are of desperate need of the Lord. and even though we don't deserve anything (but death), he gives us everything and more (mercy, and then grace!) the only appropriate response is adoration.
Drew:
on a lesser scale...I have three daughters. I love them and want them to grow up knowing both love and discipline. However, I do know that at some point in their lives, they will disobey me or just blatantly do something wrong. So, since I already know that this will happen, am I responsible for the consequences of their actions?
To answer your question directly; just because God knew in advance, doesn't make Him guilty. If a man lost in sin chooses to refuse the love and grace freely extended to him by God, and so condemns himself, who are we to blame that condemnation on the one who offered redemption?
Great question though Kev.
Kevin:
Hollie, free will is a beautiful concept to those who are not victims of suffering caused by another's free will, much less those who expierience famine. For of whoms will would choose to be hungry? It is apparent to me that if God both wanted our love and punished us in it's absence, that free will would not be so free as it would be recomended. I think the idea that we deserve death is extremely troubling. If every person has the inevitability of sin, then shall every person be elegible for death? Even from birth?
Drew:
if it's raining and i give you an umbrella, and you refuse the umbrella and get wet, is that my fault or yours?
Kevin:
Drew, to answer your question directly, no you will not be responsible for the wrong things your daughters will do because supposing that they will do wrong things does not identify the impact of the wrong things they will do. However if you, one day, were struck in the skull with lightening and acquired omniscience and through that sense you amassed the knowledge that your daughter would eventually, for arguments sake, champion an apartheid in America that would in time marginalize the rights of all non-white Americans and at it's apex would advocate their extermination, would you not feel compelled to take action against the inevitability of this happening?
Hollie:
kevin, i just sat here & wrote you this essay-long answer to all your statements and questions... and it mysteriously deleted itself. so i feel like i'm just supposed to tell you this: instead of constantly asking, "why, why, why?", i just encourage you to ask for revelation & the holy spirit. without those things, we will NEVER understand. there would be endless questions. when the Lord gave me revelation, it was as if he literally opened my eyes. i saw everything from a different perspective (his instead of my own) and it just clicked. it made SENSE. i described it like waking up from a coma. so i could sit here and "debate" with you for eternity and never get anywhere, or i could just tell you to seek after him. i swear you'll find him perfect.
Drew:
Kevin that doesn't answer your own question. It's not if I should take action against it. Your question was, would it be my fault? Those are two completely different questions. The answer to the first: is God responsible for our sin? absolutely not. The answer to your second question: should God take action? He did, in the form of Jesus Christ.
I hope this isn't offending you Kevin. I noticed a little sarcasm in your last reply. But I love you like a brother and I always have. You asked a question and I felt a need to answer it. I think these questions have deeper roots in you than just reading an essay. Stop listening to what your friends and society are telling you and listen to your heart. You are an amazing person and your heart is good. Deep down you know the truth. And you know that you know it.
To be continued...
Thanatophobic Gibberish.
Yet again I have subscribed to an illogical fallacy, that I'm dying. Honorable mentions go to WebMD and Wikipedia for their wonderful symptoms lists that are so easily applied to the everyday life. I have diagnosed myself as being in the later stage 3 of colorectal cancer, which has metastasized and is now invading my liver, kidneys and esophagus. I am having infection related fevers and often suffer from trouble swallowing due to excess bile being distributed to my swelling lymph-nodes in reaction to clumps of tumor clogging my bile ducts. Yes I have convinced myself of this without any evidence and with a considerable amount of inaction. I have always had this evangelical sense of impending doom. Because I feel as though it is a sense that has been with me for so long I can only speculate what I think contributed to my apocalyptic attitude.
I was raised with a sense of importance and urgency that any child could not ignore. My impact would be felt by many generations and I don't just mean my carbon footprint. There was a plan for my existence and it reached far into my future, spanning my life and finally wrapping up in a glorious meaningful death that would make people unafraid, and even dignified, to some day die just like me. Heaven was real and I knew it by the smell of apples falling from my neighbors tree and felt it every time I played Sci-Fi games in my best friends basement. It's not that I was ignoring what was wrong with the world or the suffering therein, I just felt that this life as short as it is would be worth any torment for the sake of eternity.
But I soon found that all the meaning and planning that had happened long before my birth in the stages where God conceived my name and purpose, was a lemonade stand in the desert. It was hard for me to release the idea of manifest destiny and start coping with human plight. All along the way to my personal enlightenment I still had things that I carried and often regarded as holy infallible wisdom. Truth as seen at the first word of a sentence. It was mostly fear that I equated with knowledge. Fear that if I jacked off one more time I would get cancer or not be able to reproduce. Fear that if I had sex before I G-d told me it was right, I would suffer a harsh consequence, like a woman cheating on me or deciding one day that she no longer loved me.
But then nothing happened. I masturbated regularly, often to images completely inadmissible to Christian morality. I had sex and regretted it, not based on fundamentalist precepts but rather because I thought at the time it was a necessary step in the direction of adulthood. So then swimming in my nihil pool of grace, it came to mind that I should seriously consider the fallibility of my body and the opposition I face from nature.
With both concepts combined: The punishment of God and the infallibility of myself, I faced an undeniable conclusion: I was fucked. I'm not going to say that I "believed" that I was dying, past tense, because in my mind I am in a way. The mind has a fond friend in delusion and the evidence exists in many facets of being. Whether it be God, State, or Anarchy, We humans will find some lucid subjective axiom to blanket the congregation with. Unlike blanket truths I don't claim any significant victory of knowledge, in fact I claim defeat. My rationalization and logic have been reduced to a nonsensical roux.
It's a good thing my mate likes butter, I would have a miserable time dying without love.
I was raised with a sense of importance and urgency that any child could not ignore. My impact would be felt by many generations and I don't just mean my carbon footprint. There was a plan for my existence and it reached far into my future, spanning my life and finally wrapping up in a glorious meaningful death that would make people unafraid, and even dignified, to some day die just like me. Heaven was real and I knew it by the smell of apples falling from my neighbors tree and felt it every time I played Sci-Fi games in my best friends basement. It's not that I was ignoring what was wrong with the world or the suffering therein, I just felt that this life as short as it is would be worth any torment for the sake of eternity.
But I soon found that all the meaning and planning that had happened long before my birth in the stages where God conceived my name and purpose, was a lemonade stand in the desert. It was hard for me to release the idea of manifest destiny and start coping with human plight. All along the way to my personal enlightenment I still had things that I carried and often regarded as holy infallible wisdom. Truth as seen at the first word of a sentence. It was mostly fear that I equated with knowledge. Fear that if I jacked off one more time I would get cancer or not be able to reproduce. Fear that if I had sex before I G-d told me it was right, I would suffer a harsh consequence, like a woman cheating on me or deciding one day that she no longer loved me.
But then nothing happened. I masturbated regularly, often to images completely inadmissible to Christian morality. I had sex and regretted it, not based on fundamentalist precepts but rather because I thought at the time it was a necessary step in the direction of adulthood. So then swimming in my nihil pool of grace, it came to mind that I should seriously consider the fallibility of my body and the opposition I face from nature.
With both concepts combined: The punishment of God and the infallibility of myself, I faced an undeniable conclusion: I was fucked. I'm not going to say that I "believed" that I was dying, past tense, because in my mind I am in a way. The mind has a fond friend in delusion and the evidence exists in many facets of being. Whether it be God, State, or Anarchy, We humans will find some lucid subjective axiom to blanket the congregation with. Unlike blanket truths I don't claim any significant victory of knowledge, in fact I claim defeat. My rationalization and logic have been reduced to a nonsensical roux.
It's a good thing my mate likes butter, I would have a miserable time dying without love.
Revelation.
And I saw a sea of glass,
to be purposeful only in retaining my own reflection.
For I hold no truth, ungrasped by another man,
and sense no light, that is felt by a chosen few.
So I muddied my feet and stepped over the beast,
and in passing caught a glimpse of his face.
It looked like mine, but at a different time,
a paradigm of prophecy spent.
to be purposeful only in retaining my own reflection.
For I hold no truth, ungrasped by another man,
and sense no light, that is felt by a chosen few.
So I muddied my feet and stepped over the beast,
and in passing caught a glimpse of his face.
It looked like mine, but at a different time,
a paradigm of prophecy spent.
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