O|R|IGINA|L|S

2006-05-15T02:04:00.000-04:00

The Only...

2006-02-05T04:21:00.000-05:00

The only place that I want to go
Terribly disenchants me so
The only people there I know
Have stains of that place way down low

The only thing I want to do
Is point my finger and say shame on you
But the thing that I know is true
Holds me back and stays my mood

The only time I see myself
Hear what I say, see my whole day
Is when some points out my flawed way
But that is infrequent. "Its not my place," they say

The only deed I do, which I know is a "sin"
Usually greets me just out of time...
But how do I know that there's not something else
Much bigger and worse than what I know is mine

The only way to stop stays in my blind-spot
I'll move and I'll hit it, but won't make me fall
Speed bumps won't help
I need a wall.

The only one I know I can trust, I still turn away
and it seems like He's done
Did I leave some behind and did not let it go
No I dont think so, temptation has won

But this cannot be, I must not be trying
It says I can break all these bonds I have made
And still I can feel them, and He must be lying
When do they break, and when will they fade?

The only way that I know how to break them
Is ask You and I shall recieve what I need
But I am still sitting here waiting and wishing
For You to change it inside of me.

But don't go thinking I won't point my finger
I try and I try to look pleasing to you
Why would I look like the guy unbelieving
Who doesn't know why there's things I won't do

Rules, lines, rewards and fines
Why are they there, can you tell me please?
Its really easy, reputation shines
If no one can see a smudged image by heeding these

The only way to get a kid to keep learning
Is give them goodies they get when they win
Christians are like that, they all want a good pat
When conquering a nasty situation

The Stance

2006-01-30T02:19:00.000-05:00

Why all this trouble?
Don't turn your face...
I don't act alone, but it's Him who runs this place.

There are so many opinions...
So many places to catch mine...
Do I make it myself?
If not, why should I share what I find?
I keep this in mind:
I think, and I think...
Time shows the way... A hand guides my thoughts by the pages He gave.

They tell us, "You see in the real world!"
If not, you learn now.
But outside in the real world, the rain won't make me frown
I'll use an umbrella!
I'll use a raincoat.
I'll wear lots a layers to keep me afloat.
And so it never sinks in...
That is... til today...
Since I woke with a start and I just had to say

I need shrug the summer.
I worked for my God.
It may have been tough, and at times so odd...
Its out of my hands! I gave my report.
Who will be stronger and give no retort?
Still I hope that this contains no spite from within...
Spite is the thing which keeps me in sin...

Speak ye if you hear and ye do what ye tell
And if ye do speak, then make sure that ye yell
Time consumed deliverance from the depths of within
Let forth thee chains which grasp hard so ye may win
The approval of those with which ye didst begin

The Voice

2005-12-05T02:54:00.000-05:00

Its within the darkest of places that one can find himself in the utmost despair. It is within the corner with no escape that one can not speak let alone breathe.

The man asks himself, "How did I get inside this horrific state? How did I fall without cutting myself or breaking a bone? Where was the pain to keep me away from what I now know is wrong?"

But he cannot know. It is not possible for him to know.

Pleasure. In a humble, yet satisfying face, is what leads a man down the hallway. It opens doors. It closes windows. It carpets the floor. How was the man to know he was falling?

The air was warm.
The ground was soft.
The way was determined.

Softly it called from the room below. Far at the end of the downward sloping tunnel the water splashed, the children laughed, the light sparkled gold.

Leave it be? Backward was torture; greuling upward climbing. A struggle it seemed. Forwards was delight. Lazily walking downward.

Effortless.
Devine.

To sensation.
To love.

The voice of pleasure drawing him close.

When does one realize that they have reached a foul setback? Does a boundary become focused and sharp, or is it a gradual acknowledgment?
The man would not notice the change in scenery, for he was blind to begin with.
Right from the start the reality of his eyes, of his fingers, his ears and his scent were displaced and diluted.
Did he fight the illusion? By his own will did he escape? How could one who was fooled come to see?

Another voice.

As the man approached the entrance to the aromatic frothy, twinkling pool, his attention was diverted.

"What other sound?" the voice of pleasure whispered, but the man could not deny its presence.

His feet halted, for it was from the other direction it called. It spoke reason. It spoke reward.

The light of the room faded.
The carpet turned to stone.
The door slammed to the room and the pool boiled over.
Steam rose in a red fog and the man's sight failed.

A shove from behind into the warm caressing water and the scent of the flowery air consumed him.

But he remembered the other voice.

The room reappeared before his eyes in a flash and it was not without fear that he was able to breathe, for he could see.

Further he could go within the room of ecstacy, but further he would destroy his being.

The water had burned his skin, but he only felt better. The mist was red from his blood from when he fell, but he only laughed harder.

Yet he remembered, and it hurt.

He had not fallen on soft ground. The stone of the tunnel broke him, and he bled.

In another flash, the pain hit him. The room disappeared and he spun. The whirpool sucked him deeper, but he grasped for the sides and it hurt.

Open wounds, seared skin, exhaustion from the warmth of the wonderous pool... it only made it harder to turn back.

Deeper was easier.
Deeper was delight.

But the other voice returned.

It is within the most satisfying places that one can discover pain. It is in the greatest of dreams that one's nightmares arrive.

"How do I get out?" the man asked the voice.
The voice replied,

"Love me here more than that which you treasure there."

The Contradictory Crisis

2005-11-09T23:37:00.000-05:00

When previously presented with an argument related to the Bible and the validity of it's contents, I am forced to draw conclusions. I say forced because the arguments presented show a glitch in the system which Christians call Christianity.

First I must make my points at facts related to said topic.

1. Christianity has survived because of writing (the Bible). Had it not been written down, such a testimony would not be valid nor would it have survived the passage of time.

2. Written importance is not only shown in the New Testament but also in the Old Testament. Had the writings of the Prophets of the Old Testament not existed there would be no basis that one such as "Christ" existed for His said purpose.

3. Belief that Christ was real is not based on the Old Testament, rather his purpose is backed up by the Old Testament (saving the world).

These being said, this is the argument presented to the public.

1 "I have done quite a lot of study with the whole homosexual bible thingy and really I think
after you read this most of it will be said right there. But heck I am crazy enough to throw in
my 2 cents.

5 First off anyone against gay people here this. DO NOT quote to me old testement verses, I
am NOT jewish and most likely neither are you.

Next Jesus never NOT once spoke of gay people however he DID say this: Matthew 18:18
Allowing and Not Allowing: "I promise you that God in heaven will allow whatever you allow
10 on earth, but he will not allow anything you don't allow."

My interpretation, so long as we don't go against what Jesus said we are good, Paul may have
been divinely inspired or whatever but he was NOT God! Pauls words are not my truth,
the may be yours but that is all that they are, worship men if you want.
15
Next, Paul mentioned homosexuality 3 times in the new testement admiting in 1 Corinthians
7:6 "In my opinion that is what should be done, though I don't know of anything the Lord
said about this matter" when he was talking about marrige, OH COURSE PAUL SPOKE
OUT AGAINST BEING GAY! Do you even know what he did before he was "saved", he
20 BURNED Christians, he was a Levitican Scolar, he was the police and he did his job well so it
was only natural for him to speak this way.

Now it is 12:30 at night and I have class in the morning, you need more I can and will find it
if I have too HOWEVER if you feel like being a bigot and commenting on this against what I
25 said hear this, If you smoke and drink and destroy your body don't you dare speak out
against me ever because I cannot stand hypocrites." ~author's name has been omitted

Step by step, we will test this argument with the basis of the Christian Faith.

Firstly: Line 5. Statement about Christians verses Jewish people.

-Now, at it is, Christianity is a form of Judaism. Both groups recognize the same God, Christians do not follow all of the same traditions, but the main difference is the belief in Jesus. There are Jewish Christians, where they follow tradition and believe that Jesus is the Son of God. These two groups are not easily separated.
-If one were to overlook the Old Testament, then there would be no Basis for Christianity, since Jesus appeared to the Jews. Jesus studied the Law and studied the profession of woodworking. The Law was defined by Jesus when the Jews did not understand or when they took it to a rediculous level. Jesus did not remove the Law.

Second: Line 8. Statement concerning allowing.

-With the verse Matthew 18:18, Jesus states that whatever we permit here on earth, God will permit in Heaven. Whatever we prohibit, God will prohibit in Heaven.
God is a Just God. He is Just, yet he is Loving. God does not change. If God changed, the world would not have rules for everthing we see and experience such as mathematics, physics, chemistry, etc....
-This statement tries to prove a point where if people can prove something with the Bible, then it is permittable in Heaven. But this cannot be. Because if this follows the verse, peoples thought would change God's rules. God would move to the beat of the person. Who rules?

Line 12. Paul did not write those words, Matthew did, and Jesus spoke them. This line may have been misplaced and out of context.

Third: Line 13. Truth.

-There can only be one Truth in the entire world. It is not possible for another "truth" to exist while another "truth" contradicts the other. One cannot say that physics is not real, while another says that physics is real. Both cannot be true. It is a fact that only one version of a religion can be true. Since the Bible is the Basis for Christianity, God would not present false testimony to the public who believe in him so dearly.

Fourth: Line 16. Opinion.

-Truly taken out of context. Paul was speaking about marriage techniques and keeping a relationship with God. Not stating how everything he says is farse. But it is a good point. Does Paul contradict Jesus in that passage?

Fifth: Line 18. Statement of historical context.

-Paul was not speaking out against gay marriage in that verse. Although Paul may have been the one leading an anti Christian movement, he still turned around. When related to his previous actions, he could be considered a man of hate. At the turn around, Paul became the advertiser for love in the Bible after Jesus.
-Such a statement as doubting the motives of a person after becoming a believer and changing his life degrades the gift that Jesus gave. Could it be as powerful enough to change a person through and through to be a complete instrument of God? Love of Jesus extends forever. Is this statement inferring that people don't change? If that is the case, does God do anything, and is it all of imagination that God "works"?

Last: Line 24. Closing Statement

-This could be taken two ways. One--That the person speaking is a bigot. Two--That if someone were to dare argue an argument, first, reflection must ensue on the commentators part. It is a war statement. Not a peace offering.
-One can argue this: "Why is destroying your body a sin? I can use the Bible to prove it's not. So why should I listen? But wait... if what I am doing isn't a sin, and what you descide to do isn't a sin... then wait... is anything a sin? ... its... not! Nothing is a sin! Sweet deal. God tolerates everything. Even though I am forgiven, God never cared in the first place! Why do I need Jesus? Sham. Don't waste my time. I found God now it's my turn to hide."
... or ...
"Since God has rules, and Jesus made it so that if we screw up it can be overlooked, these rules that he set, we shall love and cherish so that the world does not collapse into a freeforall of what people feel like doing and what people want to do. Being corrected hurts. But correction is a part of why Jesus came too. He did not come to condemn. Condemning and correcting are two different things. Condemning infers no return and no hope. Correcting infers turning for good."

My Conclusions:

++Since I have proof through the Bible that Christ was a human and is God, I must either believe all of it, or none of it.
++I believe that God would not give false words for His followers to build their faith on, for if He did, He would not be the God of the Bible, and the Universe would not be the way it is.
++By these, I cannot deny the truth of all that exists in the Bible and cannot doubt the words written within.
++Since the Law was not removed by Jesus, but given new meaning, the Law is not to be overlooked. Those that love God love his boundaries, just as a child returns his or her appreciation to his or her parental guardians after growing up. The influence is hated as a child, but loved when aware of how it protects.
++God is the ultimate parent. He will correct with punishment, or He allow you to go and punish yourself when you need to learn on your own.
++In defiance of rules, such a parent of logistic firmness will let go of the reigns and allow actions against the rules to take place as concequences will arise through the action itself.
++People can use the Bible to prove anything. Since it doesn't cover all topics, the ones not mentioned are overlooked and proven to not be against God, the one who made the rules.
++Everything that Jesus said is not mentioned in the Bible. Therefore one cannot make statements that say "Everything that does not go against what Jesus said, I will not find in it error," because one does not know that Jesus did not say it.
++If there are doubts as to whether an action is what God allows and what God does not allow, one must not delve into the action. This is a safety net. Why do something you think at the time may be wrong when in the end it just might be?

The Unheeded Concern

2005-10-12T01:53:00.000-04:00

I call the attention of all those who can read and or see colors.

Aware as you are of the growing environmental changes in America, you may have overlooked one item in particular.
This subject of concern is progressing unheeded daily at a rate unfathomable to the most scientific minds.

This concern is the amount of building taking place in our country.

Yes, the mean average temperature is decreasing over time, and the oil levels are rising past expectations, but building remains ever growing at a rate so high that projects are continuing every five square miles across America.

These buildings are multiplying so fast that population control will be near impossible within the next year.

Why should we care? Aren't these creatures of the world that God himself has made? Shouldn't we love them as dearly as we love our own sheds?

No. We should not. These new structures are unsafe for our communities. People love personal space and buildings are most friendly when they have room to breathe. Most people have been fooled by their kind appearances, but inside, these are ferocious monsters that await the time to use their steel frames to crush those that inquire within.

The breeders disagree. This is quite understandable though, for those who care deeply about their position as fathers and mothers of hotels and hospitals know full well that there may be potential in the future for improvement. But improvement is futile. Its inner nature for gravity defying creatures of such height and of the world to grow and later collapse in catastophy.

It is over population. Soon they will attack one another. Buildings will have disputes over territory and the strong will overcome the delicate and ornate.

Action? Allow building abortion. If the structure is failing, a contractor may choose to terminate the labor. If the structure is too large, the government shall step in and negate the existance. If a structure has outlived its usefulness in this world and is too old and too dusty, the community will agree to pull out the life support and let the building die in peace. If one building is taking up too much space as it attempts to get higher in its lifetime, the government will strip the form of its rights and remove what is not needed.

Do your duty to the happiness and prosperity of those around you. Vote NO to choice and put the choice in the hands of those who care more than you.

The Problem With Video Games

2005-09-28T15:20:00.000-04:00

----Informative----

Question:
What's the difference between Xbox and the Xbox 360?

Answer:
You need a better TV to see the difference.

Games can only advance as far as the TV you watch.

If your vision is only a square in front of your face, thats all you'll get with every game.

TVs are squares. They have limited color range and quality.

They also have high prices.

To get the Xbox 360, you better have a good TV or you are just wasting your money for what you will percieve as performance exactly like the Xbox.

You may see differences in rendering distances, but I doubt that it is much further than with the Xbox, and there will always be the ominous "haze" at the point that the game doesn't feel like drawing images.

CRT TVs are a thing of the past when it comes down to games for consoles... They may have a fast refresh rate, but the console itself is limited internally to a low frame rate. Also, TV manufacturers dont care about pixels per inch. They will always be the same size. Big TV, or small TV, they all have big pixels.

Console games are made to look pretty and capture the player visually with smooth edges, glowy particles, smoke that curls, 3D tree branches, volumetric clouds, random muzzle flashes, and textures that look real.

Too bad if your TV isn't HI-Definition. You wont be able to appreciate them. A/V RCA won't do them justice.

Plasma is fake looking, LCD is slow, and still colors can't blend or be expanded enough in games to match the infinite array that you see with your eyes outside. Want a good game? Tag. The graphics are real looking, you can look around, you get hurt and an adrenaline rush.

Before you blow dollars on new consoles, save for a future version of a viewing tool. A tool that will let you look around. Where if you were to look to the left, you wouldn't see your other couch, but the other guy standing next to you brandishing his .45 pistol.

My prediction, 12 years before this happens. It will probably be a separate viewing room; an "addon" to a house.

All they are doing now with colors is adding different surface textures. Reflective or not. If the rest of the image is high-res the reflection will be too. But, still there are only so many colors to pack into one item and move it along to play the game. Technology must improve.

Technically speaking (even when I am a biased Xbox user) the Playstation 3 will be better than the Xbox360.

and we're back to the TV.

recap:

Bad TV = no difference in graphics, same gameplay.

Good TV = better appearance, same gameplay, but soooo much $$$.

Conclusion:

Be happy with what you have (if you can afford better go ahead), or go outside.

The Spiteful Vanity

2005-09-17T02:48:00.000-04:00

Why do I care
What you feel or wear
When I am not around
Or you are not there

Your current mood is useless
Your current book is blah
Activities and crossroads
Stuff I never saw

You working on your memoirs?
Your writing skill at all?
Its still full of errors
It drives me up a wall!

A way to vent and recap
All you had gone through
Yet you wish us to read it
For we ask the same of you

Is it from self interest?
Or is it obligation?
Whatever this thing is
It sure sweeping the nation.

There are other ways to talk
A phone, computer, letter
Why should we care, lest we were there
Unless it for our better

Inspiration? Deep conviction?
Insight into life?
I will not eat green eggs and ham
Unless cooked by my wife.

Blah, blah, this is sweet
Its easy to agree
Journals are all Uselessness
They're pointless lest it's me

Vanity!

For here lies what's truly suave
Work displays and not describes
A yawning featurette or "Soap"
Should not be seen by eyes.

The Race-ah

2005-08-29T14:16:00.000-04:00

The oiled chain
Shiftin' is aligned
New rear cog
Titanium shine

Click in and out
The pedal's fine tuned
The levers are stiff
The wheels are trued

Echo, the crack
The race begins
Stick to the back
'Til the side thins

The bladed spokes
They whir through the air
Suckas fall behind
Get 'em outta my hair

Pound the arms
Of the Two-piece crank
There ain't no give
Shimano I thank

Seven Hundred
By Eight-teen C.
Contact is minimun
All about speed

Corner at fourty
Its wet, I'm 'bout
To fly off the road
Let out a shout

Cracked Carbon Fiber
Dented front rim
Bent rear derailleur
Vision is dim

Spectatahs stop
Stare at my dripping face
Adrenaline pumpin'
Jump back in the race

I's a rich boy
I got anotha' ride
Anotha' Red Rocket
I ride it with pride

Kickin' up gravel
I get back to the top
One by one
I let 'em all drop

Five inches away
Five feet from first
Five thousand to go
Five minutes to burst

Pretty-boy leadin'
Trained for sprint
Put on the afterburners
Left me the hint

Too bad I done the same
And he doesnt know
Snap to the Tenth
Put out his sucka show

The gap closed tight
The draft bringin' in
Cut to the left and
Flash a bloody grin

Tries to push harder
A tablespoon less
My lungs suck more
His breathin' is a mess

Breakaway
Cruisin'
Rainin'
Amuzin'

Flexin' bottom bracket
Sweatin' down the spine
Hear the crowd roarin'
As I cross the line

Shock and awe
From last to lead
I'm the Race-ah
I'm the breed with a need

The Boat

2005-08-27T18:35:00.000-04:00

Its loud inside.
Do you want to go walk?
Down by the shore where the sun is setting.
Where the water is still and we can hear each other talk?

Let's take a boat.
Into the sparkling reflection.
Paddles or sails, no motors or wheels.
Relax and watch the sun horizon connection.

Red, then blue.
The sun recedes from view.
No other traffic on the water to bother us.
We can hear each other talk about old and new
Just the two of us.
Me and you.

The Trip

2005-08-20T23:50:00.000-04:00

The first as you will see it.
---------------------------
What do you do when you can't sleep?

What?

Take a trip!

Where?

Down memory lane!

How?

Concentration, complete recall, progression.

It does take much concentration to do, but this is an exciting and satisfying mental action.

1. Concentration.

Concentrate hard and remember one event that you experienced.

2. Complete recall.

Go through every bit of it in your head. See everything, hear everything. Completely recall that memory.

3. Progression.

Notice one thing in that memory. An object, a person, a word, an action, anything that catches your attention. Take that one thing and remember something else in your past that has that one thing in it. Progress to another memory from that thing.

Repeat steps 1-3 until you fall asleep or get bored of your old life.

This can be done anywhere, and it is my complete invention... i guess...

No one I have met cares about this or has ever tried it. Let me know... ?

The end.

The Wish

2005-08-14T16:56:00.000-04:00

Stand back
Spoken sound here ain't gonna be the end
Stand up
Don't slouch or bend

Think you're safe?
Together with your Christians?
Throw caution to the wind!
We're all friends
We know right from wrong,
Join our happy throng!

Shut Your Mouth!

He Didn't Slack Off
Alone, He Didn't Slip
Internal Strength
Never Did He Trip

I Need Work
I See It
Do You?
Life Dominoes
I push you
you push me
we all fall down
adds to the sorrows

Ups and downs.
Smiles and frowns.
We're all a bit Bi-polar
Sin is the suga
Soul the decayed molar
We can still brush
Listerine flush
But the dentist still
Has to drill
Jesus saved us from our sins
He'll fix our cavities
But we still have to brush
And live a life to avoid these

Suga

Discretion?
Confession!
Its funny, its fun.
Its satisfying like shooting a gun

Sweet rush of lovely slush
My worldly joke
of vanilla coke
Brings me down to ground un-plush

So What?

I fall down
I have to see the Dentist
I get back up, all cleaned up
All is well and my boo-boo's kissed

Things I listen to
Things I see
Things I say
And things I want to be

Twisted
Tainted
By the world of which we've been separated

Don't make me doubt.
Don't bring me down.
It's true for everyone.
Don't make yourself the clown

Where can I go?
Free from sin
A place where its not discussed
Not let in
Not demonstrated
A place to build me up in every way
Keep me interested

Existinance?
Don't lie to me.
Sin has never had its distance.

Live to please.
Not yourself.

Oh the time when I can be there.

The Pseudo Cult Revisited

2005-06-16T00:06:00.000-04:00

And thence came Otar. Son of "Braddimeus the Great" and Frinshmae of the age of Drinol, the first days of the earth. Crafted by God's mighty hand inside the tender womb of Frinshmae, Otar came forth and farmed the world and the inhabitants within. At the age of five and ten, Otar madeth his yarn and he doth cooketh his foul. The foul was rare and was what God intended for all.

The Lord said to Otar whence he came of age, "You must befriend the Lebanese stream, so thou canst run swift o'er hill and through valley. Implore the world of the friend you have found in the stream so that they shallt love you and call you Otar, the Only." And Otar knelt and a smile doth expound his face.

Thence Otar bereached the age of five and thirty, Moses came to Otar inst a dream and gaveth him further instructions to find the Lebanese stream.

And then spake the prophet Moses, "From whence I lived with Ezra, to whence I wandered the fields of Tripoli, I bestumbled my feet upon the shore of the Lebanese stream. Yea, it sang, and yea, it cried. Salty yet sweet were the tears of the woeful. I prophecied to the stream and it heard my prophecy, yet mourning didst still outpour for its lips. You Otar, must rescue the stream and filleth your flask to the brim to give the stream joy and give the world joy for the rescue of the stream from its mourning." And thenst Moses departed in a glorious flash of burning sulfur.

King Matthew was summoned by Otar to explaineth the dream. And then spake King Matthew, "Your dream has been sufficient for your future of your dire life. Return to the child brought innocence and bring back peace. Foul is the tongue that speaks ill of the ill and the fist that bepounds the scrawny, yet you can bring life to that which is not living and in mourning."

So Otar adopteth the Prophet Moses' suggestions and beganst his journey. Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite, the enemy of the Fellowship of the Stream, had plotted to crush and destroy them on the day of Otar's departure. Yea, when Esther bepleaded before King Matthew, he issued a decree for Haman's exile and the gathering of him for death and destruction on his own land. Haman and his sons were then behanged fromst a tree.

Otar bereached the Lebanese land and foundeth the stream. The stream mourned, yea, Otar dipped his flask.

"O Sting! Yea, the pain of steel in my side! Be ridden of me that I might mourneth alone in my suffering," spake the Lebanese stream.

Whence the flask was filled to the brim, the stream doth subside and bewashed its tears from the shore. The land was fruitful and overflowing with laughter and gladness. God was joyful and spoketh to Otar.

"Here you have pleased me and I willst maketh your nations fruitful and numerous as the stars in the sky. Spread the joy of the stream to everyone that they may know I am God and I am just."

And it was so.

Otar spread the joy of the stream beside the one Haysoose, so that none such shouldst perish. Fromst the realm of Eden betwixt the land of Sinai and Phoenix, Otar spread the good news and shared life with all.

The Little Acorn

2005-06-15T23:27:00.000-04:00

A little acorn danced in the sun
He loved to do it; it was so much fun
Spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning
The little acorn always was spinning

Off the tree the acorn fell
Down to the ground and into a well
Dark and dry and full of smell
He climbed up and was out of the well

Looking around, the acorn saw
He saw lots of things that were nice
Some of them were pretty
The rest was rice

The acorn walked up to a sign
The little small acorn ran out of rhyme
So he spoke in a way that was all out of thyme
And went back to writing in rhyme

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Sucks to be you, cause now I ran out of material.

nyah

The Dream

2005-05-30T23:59:00.000-04:00

Sitting in the tree branch, just over ten feet from the ground, he walks beneath me.

Smoke rising from his lit cigar, the glow illuminates his face.

In the darkness, a click from his hip, a small green light rises to his nave.

He crouches, then lays on the ground.

The man flicks the cigar aside and raises the foot-long glowing scope to his eye.

Scanning the field in front of him, I sit patiently watching with bated breath.

He is my enemy.

He is there to place his rounds through my head.

He wears no armor and carries no pistol.

He does not miss.

He does not die.

He is not heard, and he is not seen.

Yet I am above him.

I can smell him.

I can taste his smoke.

Across the field, a light appears.

My window opens and a voice is heard.

My ears ring with every word called into the darkness by my family.

The man watches them intently from the ground 200 yards away.

My hands are sweat stricken and my throat is tight.

They continue to call my name.

He will know that I am there ten feet above him.

He must know.

I reach for my rifle, but it is not hanging on the branch above me.

I look frantically around making too much noise, but the man does not stir.

He continues to watch.

The rifle lays on the ground behind the mans outstretched legs.

How did he not see it as he stood there before?

I am without weapon and the man will remain til the light comes.

The voices grow louder.

They call me from the tree.

The man reaches and adjusts the scope for distance, wind, and humidity.

More lights appear on the other side of the field.

My neighbors call me as well.

The man shifts to the new lights and sets his finger on the three pound trigger.

It will be my fault.

I can't let him shoot.

My mind burns in fear.

I stand on my branch shaking in anger.

I yell to the man to stop.

Echoing fills my ears.

My own voice.

My family's voice.

My neighbors' voices.

The gun shot.

A two foot long mussle flash in my eyes leaves me blind and full of despair.

He had not heard me as the unsilenced sniper-rifle fired at the same time.

Two seconds later the window on the left shattered and a silhouette dropped as the light in the window vanished.

Now my family calls louder and the neighbors scream in fright.

I didn't mean to let it happen!

They yell at me from across the field.

They blame me.

The man lifts the bolt up and a smoking cartridge sails through the air.

He slides a fresh one into the chamber and closes it.

Another mussle flash and an echo of the shot.

My family's window light goes dark and all that is left is screaming.

Louder and louder it becomes.

I can't keep my self steady in my grief and I fall from my perch landing on the ground behind the man.

He did not move.

I reach down trembling and pick up my rifle.

I have nothing else left.

He turns and looks at me.

His face can be clearly seen in the darkness.

Malice.

He speaks to me loudly through the sounds of my family and friends.

Three rounds leave the steel in my shaking hands.

2005-05-09T20:26:00.000-04:00

The End of SP '05

The Experiment

2005-05-03T23:35:00.000-04:00

Stand up, yesterday, along the street full of lights and cars. Take a step, today, into the puddle full of oil and trash. Turn around, tomorrow, stare at the sign that flashes in your face. Intense light burning into your retinas, "Buckle Up".

My car lifts off the ground as the man before me touches my bumper with his finger. Flipping over, it lands roof down in the river below. The water breaks the windows and the air rushes out in a froth.

I look from above on the rail of the bridge and point at the car. The man agrees that it was not fate that brought the end to the vehicle.

The middle of the road sat a crater from the ice and acids of the cars which drove through it year after year. A flower grew inside which was protected from the six inch wheels of the lumbering automobiles. Out came the sun and the flower stretched higher in the warmth.

The man stood at the edge of the river and grasped the car by the axle and removed it from the cold water. I stood with the flower I broke from its grasp on the pavement. Twisted the key and the man pushed me off the shore.

Speeding through the mountains with no brakes kept me on my toes. The petals of the flower dropped off the cliffs on the left of me. One by one until the yellow center was the only thing left. Squealing to the right past a tree, break fluid spraying the yellow lines I couldn't help but cross.

Breaking metal, falling rock, spinning wheels and burning gasoline all over. Over the cliff into the gorge my car flies. The man suspended on his tree points and stops the car. Glass drops onto the rocks, papers float through the air.

I hang next to the man and he nods in agreement. It could not be fate that brought near total destruction to the car. We fall down to the folds of the earth and slide to the river. The car is let loose and rolled into the water.

Above, the petals still float down and land one by one on top of the car and in my hair. I flick them off and collapse to the sand. Coughing debris and mud, my teeth grid on sediment and I hold my finger at the man's neck.

Struggle to breathe, I am released and the silence is shattered. The screech of an eagle draws our attention. It grabs me by the ear and pecks my cheek bone. Upward into the top of the cave we fly. Buildings pass by and the sun gets brighter. My blood sparkles to all that look.

Upside down, the trees hold on as hard as they can. Animals leave the ground and growl in mistrust. The horizon gets darker, but the sun remains bright. The man points and moves the sun into the west.

Sunset, the bats enter the air. Air grows colder and the man sits on the roof of the car on the side of the road. The cliff drops off into oblivion and the car rocks on the edge. Points at the ground, and it rises to complete the road to the other side.

Night falls, and the earth spins faster leaving streaks across the sky by the stars. Circles, sprials, ovals, they all twirl about the horizon. They turn to arcs and the sun rises and falls. Faster until the sun circles overhead. The sky flashes bright, the mountains shift.

Books open. The pages flipping to the end, and slamming shut. I touch the window and I fall through holding the book by the title. People pass me, pointing and laughing as I travel through the air.

Jab in the stomach. The man pointed at me. Hovering above the pointed fence, grimacing in the pain. Reach out to push away and drop to the grass.

Remaining still, the road moves beneath me burning my feet. The lines traveling like the cars that pass on either side of my body. The street signs rush over my head, yet the fields and the houses remain motionless next to me. Dust kicks up and walls of dust block the edges of the road. A narrow corridor of moving pavement, lines, and signs.

Ends at a room. Red hot soles of my shoes. White lab coats and tools to extract what lies within. Stretcher, restraint, mask, air, it surrounds me. Transported to the edge of the world where I can see it for what it is. The sun behind the earth, the stars surrounding, the planets drifting and the earth rotating, overshadowed by the moon and my hand. Drop a pebble into the ocean and the waves cover the shores.

Sharp needle. My eyes open. The man stands before me again, still pointing. The classroom is quiet and the windows are shut. The lights are dim and the projector hums. All stare at me and my fist as it grabs and opens the book. Shock and awe, the man in the tie runs over and removes it from my hand, but it was too late, the page showed the picture of the earth in all its glory and I was removed from the room and not allowed to take the exam.

This has been a test of the National Psychosis Association for the Diagnosis of the Deranged and Twisted (NPADDT). If you read this and it made sense, you are hereby required to report to the Institution. The wagon will soon arrive at your home to take you away kicking and screaming.

The Opinion

2005-04-28T02:01:00.000-04:00

For once I will write freely.

What makes this world so special?
I have been asked this question before.
I dont believe it is because we can have our own opinion.
But, that is a general statement which can be taken specifically.
What type of opinion?
Personal preference about little ditty stuff like what your favorite color is?
No, that is not what I mean.
I mean opinion about Truth.
There is only one Truth in this world.
Therefore, there can only be two choices, to believe or not to believe.
There is no "opinion" on if this Truth is truth or not, because in its own being, it is the only one.

This Truth is in the Bible.
You believe it or not.
You believe all of it in context with past events related to today, or not.
You believe the commands and the words of the Apostles which came from God, or not.

Doing what is right is not for your own benefit. It comes second to the witness you show.
The "witness lifestyle" which comes with any choice of believing and being a Christian is obvious to anyone. You act to be set apart to draw others closer. The key points are detailed in every book in the New Testament.

that's all

The Cat

2005-04-25T02:08:00.000-04:00

_
_
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Fur
Coat
Last
Note
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_

The Diatribe of a Mad Lyricist

2005-04-23T15:37:00.000-04:00

How plain can you get?
How slow can you be?
How depressed and angry?
How twisted and cr-Azy?
How closed up and self centered are ye?

Where feelings and objects are what drive you
--------------------------------------move you
---------------------------------------soothe you
----------------------------------------turn your mind on to
-----------------------------------------spin your mind on to
set your mind to a place of lowly hate and denial
all for the good of you.

Poets you are
Distant and far
Goals are pro par
Don't know who you are
Sexist and anti war
self satisfying love
Dont want a painful cut, or a lasting scar

These terrorists had what we used to have before
Its a shame that people die, yet look and see what for?
Love of Nation, Love of Cause, Now we look for Love of More
But only try and help the poor
The poor within the borders of our safe and lovely doors

Stuck up pros with their blatant sick woes
Sing that love is only quick and goes
Goes with each new coming day
Get the girl to strike a pose
Take a picture, add her to the rows
Step by step you reach new lows
One after the other next til all are through
But once thats up, what will you do?

You're lost, and broke.
Your life was a waste.
A pointless creature
One with poor taste

You've missed the point
Again, now what?
Any one can do it
Just watch, I'll go putt

I can get to the hole
I can sing about boundless fun
I'll go as far as I can
But it will be undone

I can blend the sweet words to chase obvious truth
I can sell all those words to the blind and uncouth
To make them dream of what cannot be
What is not real and what's not in history
Preach about torment, dismay and mistrust
Preach about love abiding in lust
Sing about nonsense with content of dust
Floating in wind to a place of no purpose
To land in a puddle thats dried up and worthless
Full of broken cars with hoods that all rust

Cry out of that hole
Only the lost can hear
Those that walk through that wood
Those lost turn their ear
The trick it is clear
Closer they near
Into the pit they peer
Pick you up with no fear
Embrace your delicate lies
Soothe your smooth cries
Wipe the tears from your eyes

Stuck now,
Trapped now.
Back to what was said.

Alone now
Sad now
You wish you were dead

You pulled off what you needed
You got your good dough.
Go bake your pie now
Watch it all go

Go up in smoke
With that new walk-in oven
Go take your drugs now
You'll get your lovin'

Its the end.

Happy people rock my socks.
Fella's who re-spect women
Peeps who listen to good groove thats 'illin'
Down with lyrics that dont offend
Think words mean somethin'
They're my friends
Ain't gonna have my fists giving "hard knocks"

Re-evaluate and get back to me
After you get over what you like.
After you get over what you see.

Sing about something with some meaning
Live about something with some feeling
Stop wasting our air and get on living
someone worth something, which you are meant to be being

--The Diatribe of a Mad Lyricist

The Ugly Letdown

2005-04-21T13:36:00.000-04:00

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN
ITS THE END OF APRIL

Troubling news is brought to the young man's attention.
Lacking the sight of the few and the friendly, he sought to find them in the midst of the wide world.
Asking the questions such, he found none such. And such did he find, when whence he resigned to his alter ego and found the friendlies hiding alone.
"Travesty!" the young man exclaimed. "Travesty that such a punishment be bestowed, when no punishment was issued from me! For here I sit, having no knowledge of the present arrangement, and alone I sit, confused and shut out."

For across the land, there was the small town. A lonely town. A secluded town. A town where the friendlies did live. Not a harsh word was said, and there the friendly pled, to shut out the young man with no quarrel.

"Hark! It shakes me so that I did not know," laughed the young man in anger. "Too sad it is, that the friendlies won't grow and stay in their hole to live alone in childish woe."

Shut out, put out. Put down and kicked. The ribs closed up, and the young man fled. The friendlies were fakes. The friendlies were foes. Games they did play to parry the day, and away sent the young man to a feeling of disgust pointed their way.

The Schizo-Christians

2005-04-18T21:34:00.000-04:00

The schizo-Christians, you're all so crazy

God's word gives you commands, but you're all so lazy

Don't show that emotion, it'll start commotion

Smile and nod, agree with God, but its all so hazy

----------------------------

You ain't two sided, you say "so what"

You say you believe, but you reply "but"

Schizo-Christian you bring shame to the Name

You sit in a corner and you are so lame

-----------------------------------------

You're schizoaffective, with all your ups and downs

In church you got smile, outside you are all frowns.

Sometimes you see His face, but sometimes you do not

You've got a mixed mania, your focuses are shot

-------------------

You catatonic schizo-christians bring in all the hate

Blow up the abortion clinic, their judgement cannot wait

Send the dirty gays to hell, since it's surely their doomed fate

Negative looks on what you believe makes God irate

---------------------------------------------

Schizo-Christians, give in and take the pill

Become what Jesus said to be, for you know that it's God's will

A person who hearts everyone, someone who shows His love

The pill ain't expensive, it was payed for you in Jesus' blood

_____________________

Its you who makes the public think that all us Christians are all nuts

We hear things and we feel things that their senses cannot touch.

One big hallucination? but the other symptoms do not fit

Slackers brought them in, a faulty witness brings an end to it

disclaimer: this song is meant to make a point about the actions of contradictions in the faith, not to make less of a disease found in the world. The writers and performers are quite aware of the trouble it brings such that they would send all of the money made with the sale of the album to the research facilities to continue to find causes and treatments for schizophrenia.

The Song -twisted and incomplete

2005-04-18T01:22:00.000-04:00

Open the Window! It smells in here!
Quick and get it done! Quiet, mom is near!
Move that stool and dump that cheese!
Wash the stove to kill disease.
The song got burnt in the pan
The lyrics sprayed the wall and hit the fan
The tune got bent and dented the can.

Look out, boy, you've lost your mind!

Dropped the rock from the bridge
To watch it break below
But who would have known
That car would smoulder
My cover's blown
He sang his song from the shoulder
A song of woe
A minor key, a broken toe.

Look out, son, you're one of a kind!

Sleeping teddybears
Curtains pulled wide
Red dress she wears
Slow melody to glide
Sun rises
Long base line shadows
Trills and Frills
sparkling beauty billows.
Gracenote to spin
Staccatto to hop
Fade to hum
A ring to stop.

But its a twist!
You grabbed my wrist!
Pull to fast and high.
Pull to crazy and a pull to fly.
Edge of the world
And its all been hurled
Down
Down

Rush. Flush
Plush in the slush.
Skatin' on Ice
The morning a hush
Yell out loud
Scare all the birds
Drag out the truck and get it plowed
Whip out the syncopation
And twirl double, tripple, double.

Look out, kid, you got behind

The Strip of Bacon

2005-04-14T21:03:00.000-04:00

See that pig o'er by the sheeps?
He's wicked fat, he only sleeps.
Curly tail? So straight he weeps,
All alone by the sheeps.

Sad pig, you have no thumbs
You're old and fat, you chew with gums.
Man always feeds you, you lick the crumbs
Now he's hungry for bacon
Here he comes!

Strip, yeah that strip, that juicy little strip
The pig tried to run away
Tried to move, ain't his groove, face in the mud (real smooth)
He got caught to his dismay.

The knife
Here comes the knife
Shining in the sun, Shining in the sun
Oh wait, he holds a gun
Had he escaped and fled, he would have died in the end
Heart attack, its still no fun.

Bacon!
O' Sizzling Bacon!
Give me your fat, your grease!
Your flavor, your savor, your healthy life waiver
I'll love you as long as you please.
Bacon!
O' Bacon!
With me you can rest at ease!

Into the stove did that pig's bacon go
Served up by the wife.
The kids were all clean, and no dirt to be seen
The perfect Good Housekeeping life.

Wipe that mouth
You ain't in the south
Take your elbows off the table
This is not a horse and stable
A first class dining table, with

Bacon!
O' Tasty Bacon!
Well, yes the pig is dead, but his meat is in my head
Going down to the stomach where his butt will live instead
A waste of a life? What about a sacrifice! To (my soda needs some ice, ma'am?)
Bacon!
That Crunchy Bacon!

The Stick

2005-04-13T17:06:00.000-04:00

Flyin' by like a plane in the sky, you ask why he swung that stick that made us all cry. Spins around his head, feel like we'd all die, but he's a happy one, a twinkle in his eye. Under the willow tree, thats where we'd all be, drinking tea and singin' gleefully. He had to look down 'pon the ground to see that stick that he found, if you didnt duck, you'd say goodbye.
______
Sweet playful children, you live too much. Livin' on the edge, dangerous such. Put down that stick, or I'll kick in the clutch and you won't be touchin' nothin' for a month.
______
He dropped that stick, but it was mid-swing, got launched into the air. Headed straight for Eugene, pointed end first. And she did deem that trouble-maker the worst she'd ever seen. Cut-time now, that stick hit her brow, her face hit the cream and her jacket split at the seam, plowed through the table and landed in the stream. I yelled at the boy and he thought I was mean. Up to his room, which was very unclean, kicked a hole in the wall, and began to dream.
_____
Sweet playful boy, you live way to much. Livin' on the edge, dangerous such. He put down the stick, still I kicked in the clutch. Now he'll wish he never had touched -- that stick.
_____

Stick, Stick, you make me sick.
Taunting that boy, taunting his behavior.
Stick! O' Stick! You make me quick.
Quick to punish, quick to anger.

_____

Sat that boy within his room, pondering those thoughts of dreamland. Up the stairs I did climb with a paddle for his bare hand. Pushed the door not to soon, to see that stick again. He found me mad. A mad, had, dad. So outside he came to the barbecue pit, he knew it was the end. I set that stick on fire, and made that little liar watch it burn in it's entire --ty.

______

Sweet playful boy, your trouble crutch won't hold your trouble for so much. Re-found that stick, re-kicked the clutch. Now never again will it be touched, --that stick.

The Room

2005-04-11T22:02:00.000-04:00

Stained were the cutains of the three story apartment. And yet, the sun still shone through. The dust of the air set gold beams of light extending from the slits in the cloth onto the scene of dancers in the frame hanging the wall. The thin door to the apartment room was ajar and let in a breeze from the hall. A paper lifted from the table and hovered in the air. The breeze subsided and the paper drifted to the braided, dirty rug beneath. Two scratchy written words were written on it. "Let" and "Go". In the folding chair next to the table sat the middle aged man who wrote it. He held the old fountain pen that made the words on the paper. The elaborate gold nib on the pen was bent and twisted and ink flowed onto the table. The light from the window reflected obscurely off of the pen into the eyes of the man whose head was rested on the table next to the note. His eyes were open, yet they did not squint.

Below the window on the street in front of the building was a bench. The wood was painted green, and the metal was rusted. A ribbon tied to it was yellow and stretched to a fence between the apartment and the store adjacent to it. The ribbon traveled also to a lightpost, a fire hydrant, and tied off to the gutter of the opposite side. The ribbon moved slowly in the wind, and flashed in the sun. A single phrase was placed on the ribbon.

"Police Line Do Not Cross".

Hendricks moved up the spiral staircase of the building to where the woman was cornered. The very top floor at the end of the hall in the janitor's closet, she was guarded by a man with a gun. Nightstick in hand, Hendricks approached her. A gleam in her eye, grinning, an arm broken and hanging, and a knife in her other working hand she whispered to Hendricks.

"Its not what you think!"

The woman laughed loudly and mumbled words to herself looking through his face. Hendricks held up his flashlight and shined it on her. Blood on her mouth and a blank stare on her face returned his gaze. It turned to malice and anger as Hendricks inched closer to speak to her. A scream from within her, but not from her mouth, was heard throughout the building. She fell, knocking over buckets and brooms and lay motionless staring at the ceiling with no breath inside. A cringe, a jolt, and the woman was lifeless.

A call from the room with the man in it, Hendricks turned and moved silently down the hall. Another officer met him there and directed him inside through the open door. Glancing down into the middle of the room, there was the man, the table, the sun reflections all around the room, a shredded book on the floor, Hendricks approached. A golden emblem on the cover of the book, reflecting the sun as much as the pen in the man's hand. With a gloved hand, Hendricks reached and picked it up. The pages were all torn but one. On that page, Hendricks read the encirlced words aloud.

"When he saw Jesus, he cried out, and fell down before him, and with a loud voice said, 'What have I to do with thee, Jesus, Son of God most high? I beseech thee, torment me not.' For he had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man."

A whisper from behind, Hendricks turned and saw nothing. Again from behind, a whisper, yet nothing was there. He spun and each way he looked, the whisper was behind him. He heard his name. A hand on his shoulder. A click, the door to the room shut.

The bullet left through the window where the sun shone, glass dropped in sparkles to the cement below, ringing through the echoing gunshot.

"Barry Hendricks."

The dancers in the corner fell to the floor in the far corner where another bullet flew.

"Barry, I knew you since your fifteenth birthday. You were mine."

Brick broke from the mantle with another bullet. The air now full of dust from drywall, gun smoke, and red brick.

"Don't deny me again. You fell for that crap before. Look at him on the table. Don't make me."

Another look at the man revealed a gaping wound in his abdomen.

Another window shattered to the street below.

"I have more than what you need, I can give it all to you. You don't trust me. You don't remember that evening in the barn? With your friends? They loved me dearly and I gave them what I promised, the riches of this fine earth. Look now. I can raise the dead."

The woman walked in, healed, radiant, and smiling. Hendricks backed to the cold broken wall, the hand had left him. The whisper again came from behind.

"Stand with me as you once did."

She walked to him and looked him in the eyes. He trembled and sweat dripped from his arms. She caressed his face with her hands.

"I will be yours. I will care for you. I will love you."

She embraced him around the waist and kissed his cheek.

A shove. The nightstick fell.

She dropped to the floor screaming with her arm broken as Hendricks dashed for the door. With his hand on the knob, she had her other arm around his neck. He reached to grab her, but the woman sunk her teeth into his fist. He swung with his nightstick but something wrenched it from his hands.

A shout, a stuggle, the arm tightened around his throat and he could not breathe. The sun fell, the light in the room faded, the colors changed. Only outlines of the objects within the room could Hendricks see. He fell to his knees with the woman holding him from behind. On the table before his eyes he could still see the golden emblem on the book, the lines that formed the simple cross that burned through the dark that was strangling him.

He hated the woman, the hand on his shoulder, the whisper, the one behind the demise of the children in the barn, the way they hurt and how they died so early in the life that riches of the earth had given them. With the air left in his lungs he uttered the words he had said so many years before.

"Jesus save me!"

The whisper came again shaking.

"I told you not to deny me!"

The womans grip lessened slightly and Hendricks gasped for breath before she pulled tight again.

God, I come before you in Jesus' name, that man who came through you, the one who is with you, the one who is and always is. You have the power over all, you made me, you made the earth. You caused the sun to stop for a war, you caused the walls of Jericho to fall, you are the God of love who rescued me from that barn. If you did all of that, if you cast the demons out of the man in the wilderness, deliver me now, I believe you. I know you can.

The woman screamed, the whisper turned into a roar, a wind came through the room and shook the apartment. Hendricks' body felt light, and the room faded completely. He heard shuffling, he felt scuffling. Yelling and cursing, yet the woman held tight.

The sun rose. Light entered the room through the stained curtains in beams of gold upon Hendricks' body. The room finally returned to his eyes and he felt warmth. He sat up breathing heavily and looked around the room.

The room was clean. His gun was fully loaded. The man and woman were not found. Yet there was the shedded book, open to a single untorn page. Hendricks slowly picked it up and read the encircled words aloud.

"I will never leave you, nor forsake you."

The Board

2005-04-10T21:24:00.000-04:00

Planed, stained, sanded and sawed, the board was formed and lived happily. Until the day, when came his way a carpenter who said, you're more.

"But I am so Big!" said the board to the carpenter. "How could I be more? To me you cannot add, and to take away would make me less!"

"But you are so plain!" said the carpenter to the board. "Special you are, for from you, a board, cometh great things. But see your sides, your corners, your shape. Plain you are. Yes, yes indeed, but if I may shape you, carve you, mold you, great things you may be. My artwork to please."

"Keep off your knives, your lathes and your hands. This changing would hurt. T'would kick me where I stand. I am attached to my knots, my finish, my place in the stack. You would take me out, and they would all crack. Crack right back and be angry with me, you see? The pile needs me!"

"Needs you for what? My father hath made you. He planted the seed that grew up and gave you. That whole stack came from me. You should do what I wish. I love you, you see? You were meant to live for so much more. Let me guide you to a life of immense beauty."

The board finally allowed the carpenter to influence his look.

The carpenter carved away the plain. He drilled away the spots. He whiddled and chiseled, and gave a brand new finish. The board was pleased, and liked his new meaning. He hung in the Son and was now gleaming. Brought to perfection through the one and the only, the board was gripped and the ball flew too high for the center fielder and the board was therefore the bat that won the world series with the Babe at the plate.

yeah, double meaning. what a dissapointment.

HA HA HA

The Box (from conclusion to intro)

2005-04-08T10:12:00.000-04:00

Course of movement?

Onward and upward!

How easy is it to make a story in inverse? from conclusion to introduction?

We shall see.

Sit down and I shall tell you a story like no other.

The old man sat in his chair and spat his sunflower seed shells onto the dust of the earth. His wife out back hung the laundry and tended the corndogs. She too spat her sunflower seed shells onto the dust of the earth. Their house was the nicest looking one in the barren countryside, the aged countryside, the pained countryside that would never forget the box that would never be found again.

Two months prior, there was a knock at the door of the old man's house. The boy from up the street gave the box to the old man. They walked to the back yard and the old man placed the box in his firepit. He covered the box with gasoline and set the it alight. The ashes rose into the sky along with the evidence of what torment became the town's inhabitants.

The evening of the previous day, at the meeting which the governor called, the decision was final. The box had to be destroyed. With the final needed vote by the governor himself, the box would be sent by the means of an innocent and unknowing boy of the town to the old man who had gas.

The afternoon that day, the governor looked at the slip of paper that he pulled from the box and was filled with dismay. This box was not supposed to hurt. It was supposed to be a beautiful thing to help the people of the town. It was meant to give new meaning and life, not take it away. He stood up and looked out the window and saw his citizens walking along the shaded streets, all with tears in their eyes. He believed the words, and he dialed the number of town judge and called the meeting.

Ten minutes before, the secretary recieved the box from the teary mailman and sat down at her desk. She believed what people said, but she looked for reinforcement. She pulled out a slip of paper from the box and saw her name on it. It foretold doom to the households of the town and the lives that the people lived therein. She cried. She picked up the box and knocked on the governor's office door to deliver what he did not wish to know.

The morning of that day, Jack forced his eyes away from the paper with his name on it. It was a shame, the impending doom which would arrive for all the inhabitants of the town. He knew what he had to do. He dialed the number of the governor and spoke with him. He told him of what he read on his slip of paper, and that the town had doom coming it's way. The governor rejected every word. In anger, he transfered Jack to the secretary while Jack was in mid-sentence. The secretary told Jack to send the box to her so she could show the governor firsthand the error of his decision to shun the truth.

The previous night, after the meeting was over and everyone there had seen the news with their own eyes and felt the sting of the words on the paper, the people descided to give the box to the strongman in town. A large group came to Jack's door and handed him the box. They were mourning the future. He took it from them and he sat at his table to look it over. It had brass clasps holding down the top, and a slot in the top. Along the slot, there was gold caligraphy which read, "Suggestions". He pulled a slip of paper from the box and saw his name on it. It made him as sad as the people who gave him the box. It foretold a great loss for the public of the town. One that would cut the hearts of many deeper than the wells that the residents made for water. He was shocked. He remained motionless for many hours. He slept on the news and when he woke up in the morning he knew what he had to do.

The evening of the previous day, a town meeting was called to read the material in the suggestion box that the governor had made. The townspeople were happy and anxious to hear what people had suggest about the town. The town was small, so in the meeting room in the town hall, each person was able to take a piece of paper for their own to read to the officials present. The governor was sick at the time, therefore the officials would take excellent notes for him. After everyone had a piece of paper with a suggestion, the room was dead silent. None breathed, and each could only stare in horror at the suggestions they held. The chairman asked a man in the front to read his suggestion first. The man looked around and swallowed hard. He quickly sat down and wiped the sweat off his face wtihout saying a word. The chairman asked if anything was wrong. No one answered. One woman from the left side of the room brought the box slowly to the chairman so he could read a suggestion. He took one out and also became frightened. The paper had a list of everyone in the town on it and specific instructions for what would happen in the coming month. His eyes scanned the room. All looked at him intently, frightenedly. Then he spoke.

"You all have the same suggestion?" All nodded. He took a deep breath and spoke again. "This is most troubling news. These slips of paper, these suggestions have come from higher up. We will lose something we love, and nothing can stop it. You have all read it. The world has broken our defenses by means of this box. Had we not had it, we could have kept out such a threat. The world does not love us and our inhabitants. They say the large bugs we learned to love so much, the plants we have created to withstand their chompers, are contaminating their earth. They say we are ruining the planet we live on." The chairman took a deep breath. "In one month I fear that the words on these papers will come to pass, our land will be ridden of our beloved flora and fauna. A government flyover will cropdust our town with powerful pesticides. We have been given the suggestion to stay indoors and to remain indoors until the next rain during and after the dusting to avoid cancer." He paused. "I am sorry. We must heed the instructions. I will call the governor now." He left, and returned with even more sad news. "The governor does not believe us, you must find a way to convince him."

The Lonely Guitarist

2005-04-07T02:18:00.000-04:00

BLING

well, I heard about the lonely guitar player. They say he lives by the entrance to Walmart. He sits there alone playing songs his Grandfather taught him when he was a child.

By far his was the nicest acoustic guitar that anyone could have played or heard in a long time, the lonely guitar player had inherited from his Grandfather. The volume, loud and boomy with a very rich midrange and even toned treble resoponse. The lonely guitar player liked the small size which complimented his fingerstyle playing technique and the blues that he played. Crafted with solid woods throughout, the sides and back were constructed from solid Brazilian rosewood, and the top was bookmatched from select Sitka spruce for optimum tonal response. The rosette was embellished with delicately inlaid herringbone pearl, and the body wass bound with grained ivoroid. A genuine ebony fingerboard featured abalone diamonds and squares bordered in mother of pearl. It was tastefully appointed with a hand beveled and polished tortoise colored pickguard. Nickel-plated open-geared tuning machines are equipped with vintage style "butterbean" knobs. In front of the lonely guitarist lay the vintage hardshell case with its velvety interior open for donations.

The loney guitar player loved his guitar. He also loved Walmart. Day after day, the lonely guitarist observed the people entering and exiting the supercenter. With no where to go, the lonely guitar player took advantage of the things he saw.
Daily, he would see at least one person throw their spare change on the ground. Rarely did someone use their change for the vending machines in the front of the building. Someone always was sorting a handful of change while leaving. People always listened to music in their cars, and wanted to go buy some from the store inside. He also noticed that when the Salvation Army did the christmas "money take" operation for the homeless, they made out well because of the musical instrument that they used, a bell.
So he sat with his guitar by the entrance playing classical hits from the 70's and some true classics from the 50's. The lonely guitar player played and played and the people gave and gave. On the average day, the lonely guitar player would make 3-4 trips to the bank to empty his case for a daily income of over $300.
But it was not the money the lonely guitar player loved the most about Walmart.
In his observations, he noticed the lonely cart pusher, and he loved her.
Every day, he would play "The Lonliest Number" during her break outside. She would sing along and he would edge closer for conversation. Yet work got in the way. The lonely guitar player could not stop playing, for the customers expected it, and the break that the lonely cart pusher got was only as long as the song he played for her.
Thus they were lonely and longing for the day Walmart would give better hours and treat their staff better by allowing longer breaks. Only then could the lonely man and the lonely woman feel at ease and have their feelings confirmed.
The day finally came, and Walmart added new featured to their employment tactics. The lonely guitar player played many happy songs all day long waiting for the time he would be able to sing and play for the lonely cart pusher. He even broke out a pick so he could play some rock guitar parts from the Beatles hits.
The day wore on and the lonely man knew she was coming soon. He had found a poster showing the new hours for all employees and everyone had a ten minute increase in break time.
The newest part of the emplyment tactics for Walmart was the ability for workers to transfer from one store to another with cuttin' butter ease.
The lonely cart pusher never came out of the store. She was never there. She had transfered to the Walmart across the street because she had gotten bored of the song the lonely guitar player played every day. She was always on the verge of asking him to play something new, but the break would end, and the words never came. The sound of "Twoooooo can be as bad as one" rang in her ears everytime she went home. The only way to get away from the song for her was to move away, else she would vomit on him the next time she saw him.
And there he sits. Alone, playing his vintage guitar making $300 a day and not knowing that the lonely lady he loved left him for another Walmart because she was sick of him.

over and out

The Lost Scrolls of the Book of Jonah

2005-04-06T00:45:00.000-04:00

Take Two??? ARE YOU NUTS??? WHY WOULD YOU BE SO INTENT ON MAKING THIS BLASPHEMY???

i will tell you why.

after the introduction of my new "cult".

sooooo, without further ado, TAKE TWO!!!

Here we find the lost scrolls of the book of Jonah.
-from the time that Jonah witnessed the saving of Ninevah, to his departure, these scrolls continue his story-

Jonah the prophet left the hillside after his days of life in despair over the lack of destruction on Ninevah.
God took pity on Jonah, as he did with Ninevah and gave him many riches with which to purchase his way home to Dallas Texas.
The journey was long and tiring, and at one he demanded that God put him to rest in the valley of the Fruit. God became vengeful and struck Jonah with a curse. God turned from Jonah, and Jonah trembled.
When Jonah reached his homeland he was sticken with an illness of a fearful sort and was without movement for months.
The natives of the area were distraught by the return of the Angry Man of whom that had no favour.
He lived off of the riches from Ninevah and hired a maidservant to care for him in despair.
When Jonah heard of the passing of the chosen one by his homeland and the miracles performed henceforth by him, he called for his maidservant to send for the one called Jesus the Christ.
Jesus showed Jonah the many ways of providing health to himself and Jonah was able to walk again.
"A Miracle!" Jonah did proclaim.
Jonah thanked Jesus and turned toward God and thanked him for his blessing of the servant in his house.
God was pleased and returned to Jonah's side.
In a saunter through the countryside with his regained ability to walk, Jonah reached Mecca, and tore his clothes and drank flithy water to cleanse his insides. He circled the pillar and found Buddha hiding in a corner on the western side.
"Dear Buddha, why did you come to me here?"
Buddha replied, "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut. Only though self mutilation can you find the way to better Karma, and Enlightenment."
God concurred, and thenceforth deemed that Jonah prepare for the night of the black moon of the fifth month of the second thousandth and ten twain year.
Specific instructions were thence given to Jonah by God to tell others.
"When a bad deed is done, you must speak harshly against it and scorn the one who has done it. After scornment, tenderize the ones back with willow branches and pray to me that I might clense the soul."
So Jonah heeded the word of the Lord and re-entered Ninevah to tell the new news.
They did not repent, and they were destroyed. Jonah was finally pleased and went to live in Chicago with his college buddies, where he died of consumption.

from the time of Jonah's dissapearance til now, the words of the Lord have been kept secret. share them with others that you might be clensed.

ok, fine... my ideas are few and stretched.

ITS TWISTED ITS SICK ITS crAAAAAZYYYYY!!!

Why??? because it is easy it is wicked easy! what is not easy, is creating the Bible from nothing as was done with these "stories".
too many connections. too many prophecies. too many pages, too many NONCONTRADICTIONS which you would find anywhere else.

HOW??? duh!!! The word of God, foo. The H-O-L-Y Spirit. God in YOU! God speaks through people in prophetic ways so that you may know he is real. God SPOKE THROUGH THOSE PEOPLE IN THE OLD TESTAMENT, and.... ummmm oh yeah! THE NEW TESTAMENT TOO

gee whiz. dont harp on the guy who thinks that a lifestyle of love is a freak, or a bad person, or someone to make fun of.
shame on YOU! for continuing the downfall of man

10
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1
peace out sucka, ya got pwn3d

Otarinarianism

2005-04-05T01:22:00.000-04:00

I, can make, my own, personal, quite fictional, version of, a cult.

Here we begin:

And thence came Otar. Son of "Braddimeus the Great" and Frinshmae of the age of Drinol, the first days of the earth. Crafted by God's mighty hand, Otar befarmed the world and the inhabitants within.
At the age of five and ten, Otar wouldst maketh his yarn and he doth cooketh his foul. The foul was rare and was what God intended for all.
The Lord said to Otar whence he came of age, "You must befriend the Lebanese stream, so thou canst run swift o'er hill and through valley. Tell the world of the friend you have found in the stream so that they may love you and call you Otar, the Only." And Otar knelt and a smile doth expound his face.
When Otar hath bereached the age of five and thirty, Moses came to Otar inst a dream and gaveth him further instructions to find the Lebanese stream. And then spake the prophet Moses, "From whence I lived with Ezra, to whence I wandered the fields of Tripoli, I bestumbled my feet upon the shore of the Lebanese stream. Yea, it sang, and yea, it cried. I prophecied to the stream and it heard my prophecy, yet mourning was heard. You Otar, must rescue the stream and filleth your flask to the brim to give the stream joy and give the world joy for the rescue of the stream from its mourning."
And then Moses departed.
King Matthew was summoned by Otar to explaineth the dream.
And then spake King Matthew, "Your dream has been sufficient for your future of your dire life. Return to innocence and bring back peace. Foul is the tongue that speaks ill of the ill, yet you can bring life to that which is not living and in mourning."
So Otar adopteth the Prophet Moses' suggestions and beganst his journey.
Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite, the enemy of the Otarinians, had plotted to crush and destroy them on the day of Otars departure. Yea, when Esther bepleaded before King Matthew, he issued a decree for Haman's plan to returnst to him for death and destruction on his own land. Haman and his sons were then behanged fromst a tree.
Otar bereached the Lebanese land and foundeth the stream. The stream mourned, yea, Otar dipped his flask.
"O Sting! The pain of steel in my side. Be ridden of me that I may mourn alone in my suffering," spake the Lebanese stream.
Whence the flask was filled to the brim, the stream doth subside and bewashed its tears from the shore. God was joyful and spoketh to Otar.
"Here you have pleased me and i will make your nations fruitful and numerous as the stars in the sky. Spread the joy of the stream to everyone that they may know I am God and I am just."
And it was so.
Otar spread the joy of the stream so that none such shouldst perish. Fromst the realm of Eden betwixt the land of Sinai, Otar spread the good news and shared life with all.

Gee. Was that too hard? NEIN!!!
Gee. Was that too true? NEIN!!!
DU HAST MICH!!! You asked, I did not answer.

what a shame.

Cause I found this written on a piece of papyrus of the side of the road in NYC! It must be real!

I even buried it so that I could dig it up later when it got moldy and dirty! I put my pfalzgraff plates in with it too so that maybe it would look neater, you know... with a little caligraphy here, and a little there, just to spice up the night. You dont believe me? may God smite you and call you Sally!

NONE SUCH!!!!!!!!!

2005-04-04T00:46:00.000-04:00

Mosiah 15:27

Therefore ought ye not to tremble? For salvation cometh to none such; for the Lord hath redeemed none such; yea, neither can the Lord redeem such; for he cannot deny himself; for he cannot deny justice when it has its claim.

Ha Ha Ha Ha

NONE SUCH!!!

Read the book of mormon. it will make you smile.

Rendition of Doppler Effect

2005-04-02T18:12:00.000-05:00

The doppler effect relates to frequency and the speed of sound.

The speed of sound is a constant and can not be changed. The medium resistance, and other resistance affects it, but the speed remains the same.

Conservation of momentum states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. A plane moving at the speed of sound, will give off sound and can be heard near the plane. Faster than the speed of sound results in a gap where the object is and where the sound seems to come from.

The speed of sound does not change in any instance here given.

When the plane is flying away from you, the source pulls and stretches the sound signal out to make it a lower frequency. When approaching, the source pushes the frequency to increase it.

Change in source movement will effect frequency.

Take a rope. Swing it around your head. Pull it in and it will go faster, so it seems. But it is not so. The tip of the rope is going the same speed as it is when it is extended as when it is pulled close. Speed is distance over time, the rope tip will still go the same distance over time, seeing how the circumference of the circle of spin has been decreased. The frequency has increased in the number of times around the circle the tip will go to retain the same speed. The same in inverse is shown in the extention of the rope.

To retain the same speed in sound, the frequency changes. When pushing the sound, or like pulling it close as shown with the rope, the frequency will increase to retain the same speed. When pulling the sound, or extending the rope, the When pulling the sound, or extending the rope, the frequency will decrease to retain the same speed.

Foo.

SLAP ya down, ya racist rappa

2005-04-01T16:40:00.000-05:00

What? You cant speak english? Well maybe you turn and learn and hear my speakin', but none gets in cause you's a foo and cant get past the culla and ya cant pass the bread to be a friend you throw the knife into my face when all I wanted was a slice, ya can't be nice.

Step off this pad, I'm gettin' madder than my best friends dad

CAUSE

Ain't Like 2Pac Ain't Talkin' Smack
Rap About G-Dawg Not About Crack
Talkin' Death Is Way Outta Whack
I Bet You Could Be Happier It's Love That You Lack
They Wanna Get Rid Of The Rule Of The Supremacists
White Folks Aint All In With The Pain O'This
Yo Eyes Are Shut, You Swing, And All You Do Is Miss
Segregations Gone And Now YOU'S The Racist
Rememba? You Do! The Filth Of The Past
Ain't Like The Liberals, Don't Move And Now Yo' Last
Forgettin's Easy For the Heart Of America Why Don't You Join In With
All The Hysteria
Whites? The Devils? Some Rednecks, Sure. You Mention Them Sometime
But You Put Me In The Blur
What Happened To Old Ways Of Demonstration
Its Violence Now Cos' You're In A Free Nation
Peaceful Protests For You, Have You Tried? You Lied.
You're Filled With Hate in the Black State, The State You Didnt Make But Keep Awake, The State You Hate.
You Do The Drugs, Talk Like Thugs, Pop The Gloc, And Now The Whitey "Was"
Shakin', and Quakin', The Skin's Gone Cold.
A Shame, A Shame. A Sad Dark SHAME! You're Oh, So Lame.
The Story You Told.
Step Back Jack
Cos' Its All Outta Whack