Sunday, February 26, 2006
Well, for one thing, I ain't him. I mean, if that's who you gotta be to drive that car, better off homeless. The fraud. See, my fraudulence kills me, his fraudulence makes him money. He thinks that makes him smart. He just can't figure out why he's so angry.
There's a theater here I go to on occasion where I have to run a gauntlet of beautiful people as it's housed in a very upscale shopping center. You've got trophy wives, self-possessed models, fashionably unshaven dudes - it's quite a scene in all those little outdoor cafes. Part of me wants to shrink away. Part of me wants to laugh.
Point is, I can't be those people. That fact has forced me to the streets. There are people who have gone from eating out of trash cans to extreme success. My decisions have not been so sage, unfortunately. And self-forgiveness is harder than you think. But I still want to be me.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Holy peopleMost Christians today would crucify Jesus. Heck, they do it every day. Problem is, there are no Christians, or Muslims or Satanists or agnostics even. There's just a bunch of people who have deemed themselves so. It means nothing - a soul is a soul. This much I do know: There's nothing so dangerous as a man who's deemed himself holy - for then he thinks he can do no wrong.
See, religion is great. It's thought up by men, so it's easy. You just make up a set of rules (of course, there are full scale literal wars over the rules), then you ascribe those rules to God, so...if you obey the rules, you are obeying God!! That's lots better than, say, listening to your concience. That's the "enemy" speaking to you, as I heard one speaker say. No, better to follow the rules, be a good boy or girl, and make everyone happy. Not to mention cheat yourself out of the Kingdom of Heaven.
But I gotta admit, ain't nothing as much fun as a holy war. We've been having an alleged "holy war" for our culture for years. Now it's spreading around the globe. Everyone you hate, you can attack, kill and destroy - 'cause if you're holy, then they have to be wrong. "Holy evil", it's like a drug. Hard not to keep sticking that needle of hate in your arm. Good news is, ultimately these people destroy themselves.
That "Embraced by the Light" lady said when she talked to Jesus, he could care less what her religion was. So, if Jesus doesn't care, why should you? And this is coming from me, a most religious fellow.
Of course, I'm not the only one who knows this. There are those in high places who think 9/11 was a godsend. Hard to imagine a more delicious opportunity to seize power. They know we are sheep. They know it's the natural inclination of people to want to trust. So "Trust us" they say - and we do. The alternative is to believe we have no one and nothing to turn to. So we stay quiet about any of Daddy's wrongdoings.
I love the Agatha Christie line: "Stupidity is the one crime that never goes unpunished." No one and nothing can make us safe. The terrorists have got us to torture ourselves and divide us with fear. There are those who like the idea of Big Brother always watching, being a bad ass who can stop all evil. Ah, the irony. Big Brother will only stop you. To not see this is to not look.
We all know what the answer is. But no one wants to mention that. Don't ever want to talk about that. The punitive aftermath to WWI sowed the seeds for WWII. Are we sowing the seeds for life now?
Thursday, February 23, 2006
I'm still in love...through space and time she is still there...it is not discussed and if pressed I would deny it...no one's business but mine...but there's still a child in me and a special place to go...a place that is the life God intended for me...I am one for whom a job is death, but had I not run from my feelings, would there have been another way?...part of me suspects yes...it's an amazing thought, that...that I would have my life and my wife, my book and my film...all that's like a place in the clouds to me...I can see it but I can't reach it...so privately, I dream...
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
While Jesus was still talking to the crowd, his mother and brothers stood outside, wanting to speak to him. Someone told him, "Your mother and brother are standing outside, wanting to speak to you."What wasn't reported was the reply of Jesus' mother: "Well, he's the one that ordered the damn pizza." So maybe Jesus could have lightened up a bit for the Herod's Pizza delivery boy, but I guess he wasn't much of a family loyalist. I've seen that be praised: being a loyalist. Loyal to fucking what, though??
He replied to them, "Who is my mother and who are my brothers?" Pointing to his disciples he said, "Here are my mother and brothers. For whoever does the will of my Father in Heaven is my brother and sister and mother."
People say they are loyal to their country, their masters, their toothpaste brand, whatever. But is that loyalty just a substitute for thinking? Well, people always seem to say their loyalty is a good thing. Sometimes even a moral thing. But there's only one thing in the known universe you can be loyal to and not have it destroy you: the truth.
That was Jesus' point. If your not loyal to the truth, then you are a destroyer of the fabric that holds us together. We all know this. That's why we try so hard to spin the truth our way. Yet, there's nothing so empty as the successful liar. He knows he's not the brother of Jesus - or a patriot.
Monday, February 20, 2006
I was busy filling my jug with water and I noticed how relieved I was to have one of my own near me instead of one of "them". Insiders are outsiders to us. My guard dropped for once. I wanted to walk over and say something. Tell her it was OK 'cause I was one too. Instead, I just observed her clothes and noticed the tell-tale signs. The dirt around the edges, that "worn" look, clothes once nice but now a bit tattered. She really couldn't hide it if she wanted to.
I hide well and I'm sure many times people suspect nothing of me. It's just that always being on the con is a killer - perhaps quite literally. I'm sure these stomach pains I'm having are quite serious. I beg to leave this every day.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Let's take an example. Suppose I go to an ice cream shop where they have two flavors: vanilla and chocolate. I say I want chocolate and this is what happens with my fellow patrons:
"Chocolate! What? Vanilla not good enough for ya?"
"I suppose now if a bloke likes vanilla he must be some sort of loser, eh?"
"Just who the hell do you think you are to diss me mates like that??"
"Yeah! Just what is it you trying to say??"
Sigh. Sometimes I feel it is forever my lot to babysit. These children masquerading as adults feel threatened by my innocent choice, as if it's some sort of rejection. Sound silly? Try this one for size. Suppose I remark on what a warm winter we are having. The response is predictable among the guilty:
"What? Never seen a sunny day in winter before? You a liar."
"He's one of dem global warming nuts! Chicken Little and all that!"
"The bastard's accusing us of mucking up the world! Who does he think he is, I'd like to know!"
See? Everybody's attacking nowadays. No one has any faith. It shows in our violence. So now I WILL make an opinion. Please, don't off yourself. The truth remains the same regardless of who wins the argument (as demonstrated by an earlier post). OK, brace yourself. Hold on tight to the stroller!
America has always had an achilles heel: rape. We rape everything. The land, ourselves, our kids - it's our national passtime. It's no coincidence we are by far the most violent western society. Heck, show a tit on TV and we're apoplectic. But show violence? Now that we do consider moral - all our violence is holy, just ask an Iraqi. But it is the law of nature: that which you abuse, you lose. Seems our plan is to one day have all the money in the world but no air to breathe or water to drink or food to eat. Get a glimpse of the future Here.
I saw a magazine proudly proclaiming we're still number one! Huh, think an article like that would have been written in the fifties, when we really were number one? It would have been like saying the sky is blue. Everyone just knew. Now we know something's wrong and we are desperately trying to convince ourselves otherwise. Good plan! So sure, we may still be driving the best car in the world, but who cares if it's headed off a cliff.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Funny how there's so little time. Even with time spent on money making enterprises, a homeless guy's got all the time in the world, you'd think. It's not so. I am exhausted by the efforts of survival. My thoughts are only of survival, not of marriage or shopping or whatever the average person thinks about. It's hard to explain. My whole day is just taken up this struggle. Valentine's day was a good example.
What a fucking bitch that was. I was on my knees praying for death. Maybe the whole valentine thing did get to me, I don't know. My head was split in two with a headache. I just couldn't unwind. Naturally, I thought of miss perfect Debby and her perfect goddam life and how obnoxious she would be on a day like that. I tried to use my imagination for therapy like I usually do. I imagined sending flowers to where she worked. She would assume they were from her husband and from approval-driven Debby's perspective she would love to have it be seen on how much he supposedly loved her. Then she would open the card and read something she would perceive as completely delusional like "I still love you" and see my name. What a spot she would be in then! She of the perfect life having to publicly explain flowers from a creep! Delicious. But I would feel a lot of guilt doing that so I probably wouldn't even if I could. Probably...
Back to the time thing, it's frustrating I can't just blog all the time. It's like there's x amount of energy to a day and that's what counts, not how much supposed time you have. Energy I don't have. I put a lot of effort into my posts. Most blogs are boring as hell and I hate that. The idea is to share and give something of yourself. Let me have some insight into you. It's amazing how I can be in a quiet spot sometimes and have all sorts of great ideas run through my head. But if I try to make the effort to put them down they disappear. I just wish I could remove that barrier.
The lack of energy I think comes from so much spent on concern for my future and deep depression. If I say I'm depressed, though, morons will jump on that and say, "Aha! He's homeless because he depressed!" No, moron, I'm depressed because I'm homeless. But they want to try and attack the person because, you know, the world is like perfect. They never stop to think I might be normal. I mean, take their home and car and family away from their sorry asses and see how damn happy they are. Somehow, I'm not supposed to need all those things.
I could go on rambling I guess. I always imagine someone on the other side reading all this mess and I hear what they say. It's not necessarily valid, but I hear the voice. I hear what everyone's saying. Even if you think someone is saying nothing, they are saying something. You hear about someone killing another person over a jar of peanut butter or something equally trivial. That's not why they killed them. It happened because someone's life has disintigrated to the point where that was a life and death situation. Arguments like that are not trivial, they are a cry for help. It's just that no one wants to listen. I hear you, though. I hear all you fuckers. I know all the tricks of desperation.
So in closing, the good Padre here will reiterate one of his favorite messages: Peace on the outside is determined by the peace within.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
"Everybody wants to have a home
"Don’t make no difference what nobody says
"Ain’t nobody like to be alone."
Bruce Springsteen - "Hungry Heart"
Everybody wants love. "Love is the biggest issue," said Yoko Ono. ALL things lead back to love. All the wars and debates, the living and dying, the hugging and kissing - it all gets traced back to the desire for love. I read the "Final Days" about Tricky Dick Nixon. One of the major issues on whether or not he would resign was the reaction his family might have. Not politics, or the good of the country or some other bullshit, just: "Will my family still love me?". That's all decisions in a microcosm.
In clips of the sixites you see kids sticking flowers in the soldiers' guns and that's a nice statement and everything. But I found true flower power to be something else. People lie about themselves - and I know that. We are often times afraid to admit we need something we may never get. But let me tell you, there is no greater joy than finding tenderness. Torment wanes and the river of life starts to flow. You start looking to build rather than destroy. And a flower is born in Heaven.
"Love is a flower you got to let it, you got to let it grow"
John Lennon - "Mind Games"
Debby brought such a flower into my life. In the morning sun, on my drive into work, I had a vision of it. It was a solitary flower surrounded in all blackness except for a golden light shining on it. The flower too was gold, and alive. This was the flower created by me and Debby. And I started bawling because I knew it was going away.
Once tenderness has been tasted, you don't ever want to go without. Everyone tells you life's about being hard. Don't listen to them, they won't survive. Flower Power rules the earth. And when we admit that, things will be better. (But you dickless bastards can keep hugging your guns if you want)
Saturday, February 04, 2006
Bobby Dupea is me. In conventional terms I'm supposed to be smart, my IQ tests out in the top 2%. But intelligence is determined by the choices you make, not your genetic background - as so many choose to think. Like those in the film, I'm shattered in certain ways. And I see the world in those terms too.
The walking wounded are everywhere. Seems most of us are running from something - with some forms of running more acceptable than others. You can hide in your job, your marriage, or some other respectable institution, but hiding it is. "Five Easy Pieces" exposes all of that.
Oh, not everyone is like that, I know. There was Jill, a nurse I used to work with. She was a hero of mine. She was open on anything lacking in her life. But she was a seeker, always looking for new avenues. As part of that she started a night class in literature or some such. She told me the teacher said he never gave out A's, that no one was that deserving. So she read the paper she wrote to me to see what I thought. I told her I saw no flaws in it but then what did I know? She was so excited the next day when she showed me she was the only one to get an A.
Like Mickey Rourke said in "Diner": "If you don't have good dreams, you have nightmares." Seems dreams aren't optional after all.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
But just what is this fascination with paper?
Suppose aliens were to land here. How would we explain our valuing paper? How could we explain our placing it over life itself? What would they think of us having a god made of wood?
What? Us backwards?In some parts of the world, the aliens will see children sell their bodies for food. In other places, there's no food at any price. Where there is food, they pray to the paper god so they may keep it.
It's pretty laughable now when you read about people in the Bible making little wooden statues and praying to them to make them safe. They would bury them under their houses for protection. When the aliens show up, that's the same laugh they will use on us.
See? That's the problem with moneyism. It's just so hard to get around that First Commandment thingy.
Well, Cunt, how 'bout this: Every time you want to pass a law legalizing rape, we'll just tie your wife up spread-eagled in the public square with a sign saying "Freebies inside". Maybe that will wipe the smile off your smirking ass. (Or maybe not considering how morally bankrupt you are). Christ, what a cocky bastard he was. People like this are sick. What's irresponsible is not lacking money, what's irresponsible is requiring money.