Actual footage of me on New Year’s Eve 2017!
Actual footage of me on New Year’s Eve 2017!
No matter what you do to ring in the new year, be careful. You don’t have to bring your past into 2018. But sometimes I suppose it cannot be helped. In that case, at the very least, I hope you had fun.
Happy New Year!
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Well, those are my New Year Resolutions. This year (for once) I intend to keep them all. Happy Holidays, everyone, and Happy New Year to you and your resolutions. May your new year be flooded with your heart’s light. Take care.
Well, today, net neutrality took a giant step backward toward being a distant, fond memory. I personally won’t stop blogging, but this puts a dent in my drive, for sure. My little opinions, poems, stories, and cartoons have no shareholders. Therefore, my relevancy on Google just might take a giant step backward. I’m not really certain to what degree this “road closed” to neutrality will affect us. But I can guess the net will no longer be the voice of free and creative thinking it once was.
I may be around some, but decidedly not as much. I love putting out content in my varied forms, and like to think I impact people on some level – hopefully for the greater good. That’s, however, not Comcast’s hopeful impact. Money talks and their impact is on their shareholders’ wallets. Well, I hold no shares in Comcast, I’m not on the voting panel at the FCC, and I can’t buy a crap load of hookers for Ajit Pai to change his mind that’s aligned with Comcast and maligned thoughts of lining his pockets in kickbacks from all the paid fast lanes he just opened up – typical of a Trump republican and the current dumb ass administration.
But, you know, this isn’t new. Jesus had a creative mind – look what happened to him. According to the history books (which may or may not be accurate), he was crucified for little more than proclaiming to be God (elle oh elle). How dare the Romans! But seriously, I’m surprised the net and free access to information has lasted this long. The Powers That Be have seen too much actual thinking going on, and the results thereof. People are starting to wake up to the Misinformation Monster. It is as Mark Twain said (I think it was he – paraphrased) “If you don’t read the newspaper, you are uninformed. If you do, you are misinformed.” There is no “by the people” and “for the people” anymore. This is living, breathing proof.
Until next post . . .
Surfing the internet can be daunting at times, but very interesting. I look at articles pertaining to many things, most of which I don’t fully understand. Like the Google doodle for yesterday, for instance. Yesterday was the birthday of Max Born – a German physicist. He made substantial contributions to the study of quantum mechanics, and was awarded a Nobel Prize in Physics in 1954.
I’m very intrigued by physics and quantum mechanics, though, admittedly, I don’t understand some of the terms or a lot of the concepts fully. I’m constantly looking up terms when reading about such subjects, and will have opened about fifteen different tabs to get through a single article. But I’m a knowledge sponge and absolutely lose myself in mysteries of the cosmos. Philosophy, psychology, physics – things pertaining to what makes us tick as humans and the symmetry of the environment in which we exist.
Have you ever heard of the Fibonacci Sequence? Interesting set of numbers! It’s a mathematical pattern where a number starting with 0 adds the next in the sequence. The sum of the last two added numbers make the next. Example:
0 + 1 = 1, 1 + 1 = 2, 2 + 1 = 3, 3 + 2 = 5, 5 + 3 = 8, 8 + 5 = 13, 13 + 8 = 21, 21 + 13 = 34, etc.
The sequence being: 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, etc. (55, 89, 144 . . .)
This sequence is found and illustrated throughout nature, like in the spirals of a sunflower and the petals of daisies. It’s interesting because it’s as if nature not only has a brain, but a consciousness itself can almost be seen. Nature paints the picture of interconnected-ness. It makes me wonder where free will fits in the grand scheme. On that note, I’m ending with a poem I wrote some time ago titled Harvest. Take care, y’all.
In a life’s harvest,
A caterpillar becomes
A butterfly maybe
Of its own accord.
Dispelling tangible fear
And complacent apathy,
It wins its freedom.
I did it. It’s only been three days. But I was able to get the gum and said, “No more!” I have stopped smoking cigarettes. A number of obvious reasons, and some not so obvious, brought about the effort and decision. Mostly, I realized that it is simply that – a decision. I can smoke. Or I can refrain. It’s truly up to me. This was the most liberating discovery I’ve ever made (elle oh elle). The most beautiful conclusion I could’ve ever come to – freedom.
First, I did not ever want to be what my dear mother insists I would be, had I continued to smoke – a tank-dragger. I have no use for such a premeditated condition. I refuse to. Ever see the tank-draggers running around town? No offense and not making fun at all, I’m just saying I really don’t want to be in that number.
Secondly, it is well-documented that tobacco is processed with chemical additives to specifically make it more addictive. Not only this, but also the fertilizer used in the growing process has been found to contain radioactive isotopes. Okay, now, I’m not going to lie. Conspiracy theories run through my petty little mind sometimes when there is zero evidence of any said conspiracy. But this?
Hmm . . . let me get this straight. They – being gargantuan tobacco corporations who give millions to individual lobbyist groups and lawmakers in kickbacks to make, change and/or introduce bills and laws, as to make sure those companies and their CEOs can’t be sued for health issues of and from the masses – they have their cake and eat it, too. At the expense of my life? Again, just so I have this straight – they make cigarettes extremely more addictive and the cigarettes themselves in mass quantities can kill you. This really is no secret but my question is why? Is over-population really that big of a pending problem? By the way, if anyone remembers the election when Bob Dole ran on the republican ticket, I saw him on television in a parade during his campaign. His car had a sponsor on the side with a big sign – a Marlboro sign!
I read a study the other day which said the US produces and receives twice as much food as is needed to support the population – so much so that half of all food on grocery store shelves end up in landfills! So, it’s not a provisions problem.
Lastly, it is time for me. The expense of said cigs – $5 a friggin’ pack – daily multiplied by a life time of cash and breath equals major debt that I could’ve used to by a damn house! Let’s add it up. I was more than a pack a day smoker – about one and a half – but for ease, we’ll say one. Okay $5 times 365 days in a year equals $1,825 (let’s say, since I’m 45, I live another 30 years) times 30 years equals $54,750 and a tank. Nope! I’ve put my foot down. For Christ’s sake, that’s half a house where I live. Plus, given if I lose a lung, all the medical bills – not going to happen.
A few tips I’ve found that helps, in case any of you may be thinking of stopping:
So, anyone who may be thinking of taking that first step, just remember:
“The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.” ― Confucius
Take care, everybody.
I wrote this poem for a person I’ve never met. Her smile brings me to life. I’ve known this person forever. Always. I die with her every night. And like a phoenix from ash, I meet her again every morning. Twisting into consciousness from the fires of night’s dreams, I rise into her heart and into a day’s walk. With her, I am sacred. She knows my heart’s true name. And it’s tearfully humbling. To know such a heart exists that so beautifully coincides, it’s dramatic and daring. It eclipses my soul to its knowledge. It makes me believe in something greater than myself. And that never happens to a shameless, shallow, selfish person like myself. I am blessed by the knowledge of angels. Because this person exists in more than just my dreams. She knows who she is. And for her, I put a piece of my heart on this virtual page. This is for you, sweetheart. Thank you for finding me.
When a day and words become
An example of a life led to dust,
The Fates, in their childish care,
Will bring about two paths to cross
In a coalescing harmony of stars,
And those Sisters reveal
That coincidence is illusion,
For everything has a season,
Where those hearts convince
One another of their truth,
And the universal guiding hand
Shows angels were to blame,
When our hearts burst like levees
Drowning cities of valleys
In denial of truths that lights
Lead us here to a scythe’s blade,
When we realize where we are,
Alone, you and I and none else,
When I fall into the dream of your eyes
And never wake – thank you.
In this day and age, I’m not sure I should even post Russ’s latest adventure. With Harvey Weinstein, Al Franken, and Roy Moore belligerently all over the news, sexual harassment cases are falling out of the woodwork. Mind you, I am by no means trying to make light of any victims of such despicable atrocities. Personally, I think those men deserve everything they get, and probably more.
At any rate, Russ is out with his girlfriend at a restaurant and, well, you’ll see! The latest episode of Russ is titled “Restaurant”.
There it is, in all its shameful glory. Hopefully, that cartoon won’t be the leverage Satan needs to win my soul to Hell in the Hereafter. Until the next questionable post, stay out of the shadows.
This may be the sappiest thing I’ve ever posted. Thumbing through my poetry, I came across one of the first poems I’d ever written. It had a different title once, but still stands pretty much with the same words and images as when it was first written. They say to write is to really put yourself out there, to bare your soul. Well, this is about as close as I get . . . maybe.
I wrote it with a person in mind whom I fell in love with, then came to the conclusion, later on down the road, that I was actually in love with the idea of her. Seeing that now written in plain English makes me see how selfish and unappealing that is. But, ah well, youth and its thrills, right? I was about nineteen years old when I wrote this. It’s titled A Lovers’ Day.
Tell me a story
while I seduce you,
my hope, my petal.
Across a green field,
I’ll pick you wild flowers,
ignoring the thorns.
Sipping wine and trading kisses
on a cotton blanket in the spring,
the sun blinds our eyes.
By the brook in afternoon shade,
you can drink the water
and I’ll hold the cup.
And, as cold and swift
the water seems sometimes,
I’m not afraid of falling in.
After all, I know how to swim
and I’ve seen you swim before.
Would you swim with me if I asked?
If the water gets too swift
or a moccasin comes our way,
don’t worry, I’ll pull you out.
And, in the evening by the fire
you can pour me coffee
and I’ll towel you off.
And, we will savor
the lovely day’s favor.