Tag Archive: change


Illustration depicting thought.

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Sometimes I have to wonder.  Wonder why I bother to read certain people, wonder why I care, wonder why I feel I need to respond, wonder how can she believe herself, wonder how she sees herself, wonder.

My life has been filled with wonder and wondering.  I always strove to find the answers to all of my “what if” questions.  I didn’t take the road less traveled, I took it to the end, backed-up and went the other way to see where it would end.  I would strive to find the best conclusion.  I would strive to know what is on the other side.

I have seen myself riding the wave of success, working in a law firm, running a business for a senator.  I have seen myself digging in the dirt, scrounging and scraping to survive.  I have seen my wife – for the first time, in her wedding dress, in her despair, in her joy, through her struggles, through her waves.  I have seen my boys.  I saw both of them when they were born, I felt both of them kick in the womb.  I saw their first steps, heard their first words, dried their tears, gave and received the high-fives, the hugs.  I played ball with them, rode bikes with them, hiked with them, ran with them, played with them, built with them, destroyed with them, fixed with them.

All of this, and I am still in my 20’s.

Still in my 20’s.  That will be the last time I can say this.  In three hours I will be 30.  I’m not afraid or resentful.  I am actually looking forward to it because it is hard to be taken seriously as a person, a thinker, an idealist, a father, a professional, a tradesman, a husband when you are classified as a “twenty-something.”  I am ready to be taken seriously.

At this point of my life, I don’t have much that I would like to try, roads I want to travel, but I welcome it all, good bad or indifferent, with open arms and an open mind.

I have trouble remaining complacent anymore.  If you go back to the beginning of this horrid blog you may glimpse at the beginning, the awakening, of this condition I am afflicted with.  You might see the original symptoms, the acrid catalyst.

I have read numerous comments on Facebook and twitter regarding this journalistic undertaking, and so far they have all been positive, but I expect nothing different from my friends, family, acquaintances, and others who follow me for other like interests.  It is the other comments, the ones on other blogs, the ones in person from people who only recognize me from photos of my family, or where told who I was by other readers – those who don’t know me but still enjoy my views and musings.  Don’t mistake my meaning, not all were in agreement with me, but they all enjoyed reading it.  Some were surprised by my youth,  some by my profession, some by my calmness, none by my extroverted gregariousness.

I would like to take this quiet moment of self-reflection to thank all of you for taking the time to read my palaverous, meandering, writings and thoughts.  I would also like to thank my political detractors  for keeping my opinions grounded.  Finally, I would like to thank the dirty hippie idiot.  Without her as an impetus, this whole web-log branch of my life would have gone unexplored, and I would not have learned that my thoughts I once thought to be on the fringe of societal norms, are actually all common and shared in my community, (and on a side note, I’ve learned not to believe what I hear or read in the news.)

Oh well, enough with the back patting and on to current events.

As always, I will work in chronological order on a blog without logic – the dirty hippie idiot.

Her blog starts as a tease, hinting that she will shut-up for a while, but alas, (spoiler alert) she blogs again less than a week later, but more on that later.  In this reasonless rant she condones and condemns the same person in one intellectually devoid paragraph.

Her main issue is that she asked the road department supervisor, whom she constantly, consistently, and continuously; derides, disrespects, ridicules, scoffs, scorns, and sneers at, whom she hurls accusations, insults, innuendo, and insinuation at.  She asks him to do a job directly related to his position on the road department.  She states he does so professionally, quickly, and quietly.  That is her problem.  She goes on about how she grills him about personal, professional, and political matters in his capacity as a committee member, and not as a road department member.

Let me repeat that because you may have missed it;

This woman, who hurls accusations, threats of lawsuits, investigations, and prison at a committee member is complaining when he refuses to engage her in political discussion and answer her personally slanted questions off the record outside of a public meeting while on the clock in a different, yet still public, position.  If she wasn’t trying to play him as an idiot and an asshole, then she is an idiot and an asshole.

She goes on about how she will no longer be writing her trash because she is going to publish her drivel and have it turned into a television show.  Now, I enjoy watching TV (right now I’m watching a storage wars show,) but she might actually make that happen!  She makes reference to working with the director of Malcolm in the Middle, and I have to assume she does not mean Holland because he is financially occupied for the next few years, and certainly not the number two director Mr. Melman because she would not refer to an ancient work when he has been so prolific on MTV for the last few years, but instead perhaps speaking of Mr. D’Ovidio, a man who followed first director Holland for a short while after MitM ended and is now looking on taking a chance on making a name for himself, and he may not be that picky (he worked on Critters 2 and Black Sheep, [although he did act in the awesome sauce that was The Wizard in the 80’s.])  The only problem she has is a legal one.  Her writings aren’t enough to garner interest, she would need the interaction of others and I stated in one of my first comments that everything I said on her blog was a part of my character that I created, that gives me rights to it, and anything I write on here I obviously own, so – go for it hippie, I would love to burn your house after I own it and watch from Dave’s.  Seriously, if it gets you to move away, I will happily introduce you to some producers from NBC I’ve met over the years.  Good luck!

Next!

My brief glimpse of hippiless glory is destroyed by more of her crap seeping through the cracks of the internet.  It is short and pointless, but I can’t help but laugh with glee over the lunacy on display.  She actually believes that India is building a border fence (similar to the proposed US/Mexico fence) with its neighbor Bangladesh because… wait for it… wait for it… because….  because…. India is trying to stop the refugees from coming into India because Bangladesh is  sinking into the sea!  That’s right, you heard it THERE first, Bangladesh is not only going to disappear, but those heartless Indians know about this years in advance and are building a fence to force all the Bangladesh to drown!  They aren’t building it to stop the influx of criminals, drugs, migrant illegal workers (the same problems we have with Mexico) ect, NO!  They are building this fence to stop the Bangladeshi from surviving the Noahian flood.

It’s time to stop writing this and get back to work on my not-so-short story.

Thank you for reading and I’m sorry about the lack of pictures this time, but I simply don’t feel like posting any.

 

 

 

 

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Zelda, Starkiller, and Life

The Legend of Zelda (video game)

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I’ve been doing a lot of video game playing, watching and listening to over this long weekend.

Multiplayer style games online are one of my favorites.  Using a hidden blade to slash the throat of an opposing thief,  then disappearing into a crowd has something viscerally satisfying about it, I won’t lie to you.  It gives you a certain unreal relief to be able to vicariously live out a vicarious life of a programmer/director/writer you will never meet.

That kind of play- against a real living person, but with enough levels in between (pun not intended) to keep you separated mentally, emotionally, and morally is a great source of fun.

That’s not what this blog is about.

First off, happy 25th birthday Zelda and Link.  How old do you feel reading that?  Legend of Zelda is a quarter of a century old.  Two and one half decades.  How old were you when you started playing Zelda?  Have you stopped?  Did you buy the new ones?

My life can be mirrored with Zelda.  I’m not sure if the likeness struck me of its own accord, or if it was inspired by this recent freshly pressed, but any way you slice it, my mind made some connections.

Back in the days of the original Zelda, both of us (the game and I) were much simpler.  Easy to control and manipulate, but full of secrets and fantasy.  Together, we grew older together.  We got more mobile .  By 1993 I started making my own way discovering my little corner of the world, out and about one might say – it was the same year she went mobile.   By 2006 my life had changed considerably.  I was married and was raising two children, living my party life virtually and trying to get a grip on a whole new way of controlling my life.   It was also the year Hyrule first made its appearance on the Wii console.

Enough about that, onto my next side spur.

Star Wars: The Force Unleashed II is one of my favorite games to play at this point, and the DLC (DownLoadable Content) including the side story of the Battle for Endor, was as beautiful as it was fun and thought-provoking.

In this episode you continue to play as the apprentice to Darth Vader.  For those of you not familiar with the original Star Wars movie with the Endor battle, please find it and watch it.  Go on, I’ll wait.

In this video game version of it you end-up killing scores of stormtroopers and ewoks before an epic battle with the infamous wookie, Chewbacca (Chewy.)  After beating the crap out of the Eugene Levy look-alike winner, his best human buddy, Capt. Han Solo, tries to save his furry friend by firing at your character.  He ends-up killing Chewy instead.  You then force grip Solo and run him through.  Now, race into the base and face Princess Leia.  There is a passionate fight, in which she tells you Luke died in the battle at Hoth.  You quickly find out that she is no match for you and you toy with her like a cat bats around a dying mouse before thrusting your light saber into her chest, then take time to meditate, Jedi style, over her dead body before arising to kill the team sent to “take care” of you.  Cut to black, cue credits.

Now, you might ask what that has to do with this blog?

Simple, I spurred me into wondering how things would be different in my life without certain people, and how it would change if others were introduced into my life.  I came to one conclusion.

For all my hopes and dreams, for all my what ifs, wish I could’ves, wish I knews, if I could just changes, I love who I am.  I love my family, and given the chance, I wouldn’t change one single thing because nothing is worth risking the life I have now over something that has been and been forgotten.

Love your life as it is, and never dwell on the past.  It seems cliché, I know, but in my short time on this Earth, I have already forgotten more in the past then I will probably do in the future.

Millions of people have made the analogy between chess and warfare, but few take it seriously.  One man, Kennith Jackson, took it to an extreme.  He was a paranoid and a murderer, but more specifically and to the point he was a chess player who took Master Sun Tzu’s Art of War as a chess player’s guidebook.

For more information on Kennith Jackson’s drug use, psychological disorders, and crimes please read Whipers: The Voices of Paranoia by Dr. Ronald K. Siegel. (It’s a great read!)

As a certified maniac and convicted killer, Mr. Jackson made a lot of nonsense and a lot of sense.   His style of chess play was unmatched in many arenas.  A cursory read of Master Sun’s great work can teach us much about life and how we can live it, and he is also a great springboard- this blog is about the combination of life, war, and chess sans the cocaine delusions.

When playing chess, or watching a game, it is widely agreed that when a player lays down his king, he is resigning- or saying they know that they have been bested.  Also, in many courts, one might see a player pick-up and remove their king from the board, as if to say, “I do not agree with the parameters of this match, and while not admitting defeat, I refuse to play you any longer.”

It is normally seen when the opposing player does not follow the ascribed rules or talks a little too much “smack” at the table, but not to the extent of disqualification.  It may seem silly, or even childish to go “I don’t like you and I don’t wanna play wif you anymore!”  What? Are you waiting for more?  That’s it, no more, no buts.

Smaller children, and smaller minded adults, may go to a further extreme.  Instead of taking their king off the board if they feel cheated or upset may swipe their hands across the whole board knocking down all the pieces, but this could be explained away by stating they were literally trying to wipe the board clean to start again, fresh.

Finally, there are other psychotic delusional people like Mr. Jackson.  They might kill you, or to a much lesser (although equally psychotic) extent do something else unheard of.  One person did.  One fellow blog writer took the opponent’s king off the board.  Picked-off all the opposing pieces off the board, then obstructed the seat so no one else could play, and then (here’s the wacky part,) continued playing the game by herself.

As much as anyone does not like opposition, as much as someone does not like losing, as much as someone does not like to admit that they do not possess the skills, ability, knowledge to come-out on top, as much as someone does not like to admit that the truth, the facts, reality, ect. are not on their side, as much as anyone can hate those things, they are a fact of life and a fact of war and a fact of chess.

Sometimes we all lose.  Sometimes we are outmatched, outwitted, outplayed, or out of luck.  As functioning adults we accept it, learn from it, grow from it.  What we don’t do is clear off only the opposite side of the table and continue to play as if nothing happened, as if there was still a game to play.

When a personal, romantic relationship goes awry sometimes they dump the party (or get dumped) and go on to the next game (tip their king, resign.)

When a personal, romantic relationship goes awry sometimes they feel so cheated they dump the party (or get dumped) and remove themselves from the dating pool and watch “LifeTime Movie Network” (take their king off the board.)

Occasionally, a person will rid themselves of everything to do with their formal flame (while occasionally applying a flame to do so!) Then after some BB&J (Beer, Ben & Jerry’s) go off to the next partner (wiping the whole board).

When a personal, romantic relationship goes awry one does not dump their partner, burn all of their objects, memories, ect, and then continues to go on imaginary dates by themselves going “Oh look hunny, this is our favorite place to eat!” to their right arm.  That person is a delusional, dysfunctional, psychotic and any clinical psychologist worth their weight in bedpans will agree.

That, in essence, is what this person is doing.  On one hand she states it is all about dialogue and discourse, comments and compliments, an exchange of ideas and democracy- but then deletes all comments that don’t fit her needs and locks her blog from public opinion, once she realizes public opinion is she’s a moon bat- nuttier then squirrel turds (while continuing to argue with former commenters and bash them and their beliefs to prove her sanity and righteousness!)

Is there a doctor in the house?

image

I have been away for a while.  I just needed to get away from the stresses and business of my small rural town.  I know that may not make sense to some of you, but it’s true.  My tiny hamlet is too urban for me and I needed to get away- far away- where the cares cannot reach me and neither can cell service or the nearly ubiquitous internet.

I find it exhilarating to be where there is nothing.

My little town, the place I proudly call home, is a small rural country town, and though sorely lacking in creature comforts some of you may be used to (police, fire departments, mass transportation, stores, ect) it has its perks.

For an example, our town leaders are still carrying-on a long town tradition of treating every tax dollar as if it was coming out of their own pockets (we miss you Charley.)

Despite this picture I have been painting for you, my town is changing.  Farms are still the main feature of our landscape, but not in the same way it always had been.  Family owned working farms are withering away, replaced by “preserved” farmland.  There are new homes in the downtown area, two tiny developments to be exact.  I do not bemoan this.  The homes are large and look good raising the average home value in the area, the people are generally pleasant hard-working families on top of this, they are tax paying members of the community, they are adding income to the township while not costing much.

That is part of the job of our township leaders- to balance the income and expenses, knowing that money is a real thing, with a real limit.

Allow me to give you another example of living in a small town.  In order to save money (our money as taxpayers) some people offer to donate their skills, time, and equipment to help the town complete projects or make general repairs. Neat, huh?  Now the problem that has been arising is that some people don’t like living in our tiny town.  Some people don’t want to live like a small town does, they want to act like an urban area.  Take, for example, the example above.  Imagine, if you will, someone offering to use a specific, expensive skill and donate the use of an expensive machine at little to no cost to the town.  I know that sounds impossible, but it gets stranger.  Someone in that town starts trouble over it- this person tweaks out stating that the town should have requested, taken, and reviewed bids while FULLY KNOWING that no one could be cheaper than free, but still wasting everyone’s time and everyone’s money for the mere appearance of being official.  Yes, because every farmer knows a cow that looks good is better than one that produces better…  are you ready for the next part?  After that, this person wants to waste more time and money investigating whether or not the township can accept donations and whether a person can donate, and whether free is greater than or less than then the several thousand dollar threshold for mandatory bid requests.  Stupid, right?

That is why I love to get away to where there is less.  Where the farms are all working farms, where technology is years behind and the housing market bust didn’t touch them.  But alas, this great place is changing too.  The picture you see is of the energy generating windmill nearby.  See, the farms there are changing from working farms to green energy farms, specifically wind farms (not that I am against wind power, and I am stating this directly because I do not want to be misquoted by a certain moron as saying I am against wind power.)  To the best of my knowledge, there are 199 of those windmills on that plateau. I have no idea how many working farms, if any, where sacrificed on the altar of alternative fabricated energy production, but now is the time to blend the two points in this pointless blog.

In my home town there is a person who seemingly cannot understand anything, really anything, and who constantly complains about everything, really everything.

One thing in particular is the town’s new ordinance regarding solar power.  The clueless resident takes issue with it because of its timing (she states solar has been around for years but only now is the town attempting to regulate it- to which the obvious response is that there have been guide-rails for years but we have no ordinance regarding their use as a lover or a meal- mostly because it has yet to be an issue.  Her second contention is that the amount of solar panels is being limited to a small overage to the expected normal use.  The obvious intent of the ordinance is to prevent our farms (and homes) from turning into solar farms, but, as previously stated, this person is incapable of understanding anything.

I guess there is no place left for a rural boy like me.

PS: if you would like a glimpse into the stupidity mentioned, feel free to read this crap.

I want to be a human Defibrillator

Over the last week of writing and musing I have come to change my understanding of certain things.  The wretched writer I have spoken frequently of in a manner odorous, pleasant, and passive has done something I wish to do.

She had become (albeit accidentally and on a minute scale) a human defibrillator.  She tamed the mighty Zeus and commanded his commission. I have decided that I want that, only on a much larger scale- and I want it to be directed omnidirectionally- controlled chaos.

I am reminded of the great early horror movie line, “there is no hope in chaos”.  I am reminded that the way to personal salvation, (not spiritual) can not be tread by those who seek it, but only unknowingly– the way is found by those prodded like the nietzscheian cattle we all are into all directions, but headed to the same destination.

I want that prod.  I am no shepherd, nor do I follow one (see my last post,) but I want to be a part of the rancher, a cowboy- like I used to pretend to be as a child– where the whole world was open and the sky was a blanket that fell upon man, as he looked to the stars whilst the cattle held their heads down to endlessly and listlessly graze and fail to gaze into the wonders above them.

That is my new goal.

I want to be the direction for my fellow cattle, the thing that gets them to raise their heads above the herd and see beyond the fields in which we graze and ultimately fall– to think beyond the fences put-up presumably for safety, but definitely for control.

I want to be a shock to the system.  The shock that reanimates the heart of society- the shock that startles, yet gently guides.

I want to be a shock to the system- the whole system, our system of government and governance, of society and sociability.

I want to be a human defibrillator.

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