Alas and Alack

Forgive me noble readers, for my lack of posting. With everything becoming so busy, I am afraid my time to write has been cut short. Much has happened over time, but I doubt you're quite interested in that! sooo, how about a story? or poem?


Would you just look at that?
--at what?
at that! its dust and dust
--so what's the fuss?
It's too much dust! I can barely breathe, and I hate it so
--You don't like anything though!
What was that?
--Nothing, I fear
Oh I heard something
--It was nothing, dear!
Well, I'm sure it was something, like it always is with you. Saying I'm so negative! Whats it to you?
--Well, do you want the true?
I doubt I'll get it too
--I wish you'd stop complaining!
What else is there to do?
--Look, we have our children, so lovely and refined!
Haven't gone a mile, where neither of them whined!
--Well, take our dear camel, he's weather worn but staunch
I'm not sure which smells the worse, your breath... or his haunch!
--Well, would you just once think about the good? Think about all we have, as the Scriptures say we should? Take a moment and examine every ill, ignore the bad and just for once be happy with it all.



Well, there's a short poem/idea I had today, hope you enjoy! till the next time, wheneverthatis, ciao!

Of Pride and Foolishness

"Thou art mad!"
"Truth, my friend! 'Tis my passion that drives me to this end! Surely, thou must realize I am fraught with worry for thy skin."
"Cast thy worry elsewhere for I am not frail!"
"I speak not of frailty for I know there lies within, a strength as strong as oak and a will that will not bend."
"See thou hast spoken confidently of mine own fortitude."
"Yes! but sorrow fills me as I see the storm that is yet to come."
"Storm or not I will but stand!"
"And stand you will not but fall!"
"How can thou be so faithful yet so lacking of faith?"
"For I see the future hard and fast, a fallen oak but come to rest! Thou must like the flaxen be, and bend with this future that I see!"
"I cannot bend, and I will not end. A story of what has been"
"No story there will be for I shall not tell of thee. A friend who with his pride stood tall, and how I watched him, like a wounded giant, fall."
"Thou speak of pride like it be a flaw"
"I speak of pride like it be a maw! Gaping open, waiting for thy foolish mortal soul"
"Bah! To hear you speak as if I would go knowingly to die, as if to know I die but slow wouldst thou rather I fought though?"
"Thou fool. Thou mad, mad fool."
"Be wary of who thou callest fool"
"Be wary of dulling thy sharpest tool."
"And if thy tool hast lost its use?"
"Then thou hast lost thy mind, as well as all thine sense."
"Thy wit is keen and with thee ever friend."
"Just as I am by your side, until thy glorious end."
"Thou speak of ends as if thou know of mine before it send"
"Dear friend, I know of many things, but thine end is not of them. Truth is that I know that I will simply be there when I can. My heart to catch a dagger, My lips to ward a poison, My arm to guard thine end"
"But what part shall you use to save my only friend?"
 "If thy friend shall do his job and saves thee from thine end... Then surely thou will meet that other side again."
 "I do not like the cynicism of thy mind, as if to find the dead has come to walk"
"Then fill thy mind with gladness, and end this sorrowed talk."

Changed: Part One

Thicker than Water

"Hey Doc, I need a favor."
"A favor, eh?" Doc looked up. He was sitting at his desk studying a textbook when Mouser spoke. 
"Yeah, a favor. You still doin' that med stuff?"
"Yeah, I am." He picked the book up meaningfully, a skinless image of a man showed on a page, and set it back down. "Why do you ask?" 
   Doc was one of us, a street kid whose mom worked at the local clinic. He would regularly "borrow" items and medicine to help out the other kids, and though we are pretty sure his mother knew about it she never put an end to it. A toddler gets a scrape and he was the one to put a band-aid on it. A boy get a cut and he was there to bandage it. So he was Doc to all of us, or "The Doctor", and it wasn't surprising that when he went to college that he went into the medical field. He could not afford it on his own but he was able to receive grants and scholarships, and what that did not take care of the rest of us did. I am not bragging when I say that I am not a bad thief, and it was me who supplied funds for a few of the books. Okay, maybe that is bragging a bit, but he was one of us. That's why I went to him you know. On our block we 
"I'm sick bro, an I don't know what's wrong with me."
"You're pale." Doc left his book he went into "doctor mode" and began to feel his forehead. As his fingers checked Mouser's pulse, his eyes on his wristwatch, he asked, "What symptoms?"
"I feel like I'm gonna puke and... and I get confused sometimes."
"Nausea. What do you mean confused?"
"Well, like, I get all... What's that word? Dis... Disoriental?"
"Disoriented?" 
"Yeah! Disorient... whatever."
"Well, your pulse seems fine. Though it is going a bit fast... Hold on." Doc shined a light into Mouser's eye and looked closely. The veins were black, not red. "You know, I would have just said flu but your eyes are... Well, I dunno what they are?"
"What do you mean?" Mouser asked, alarmed at the sudden change in his friend. His stomach growled and Doc smelled like his mom's pasta, What the-? STAY FOCUSED! "What's wrong with my eyes?"
"Well, hold on. Do you mind if I get a blood sample from you?"
"Blood? You thinkin' somethin's wrong with my blood?"
"The veins, in your eyes, look too dark. Almost black. I haven't seen it in any of my textbooks. Just... Let me take a sample, would you?"
"Fine. How long will it take?"
"Not long, Mouser. Not long. hold still," Doc said as he shifted and pulled from a plastic drawer full of medical supplies a needle and syringe. "Sit down here."
"Fine, But you know I don't like needles!"
"It won't hurt, just a quick pinch. And..." He plunged the needle into the vein. "... There we go."
Mouser's eyes widened as the blood poured into the vial. He had seen blood  being taken before and that was way too dark for blood. It was like liquid black licorice, and no red coloration at all. Doc pulled the needle and applied a cotton ball to Mouser's arm. 
"What the-?" They said in unison as they stared at the vial. 
"I'm sorry Mouser."
"Sorry? For what?"
"I don't know what's wrong with you."
"Man, I just been in here 20 minutes... Come to think of it, I feel better already. Maybe too long without eating. I'm hungry!" 
"Well, I'll check this out and get back to you. Go get something to eat."
"Okay, you know the rules."
"Yes, no one outside."
"Alright, see you."

Well, Excuse Me for Being Literate!!

It's sho been a while since I posted last, and so I figure I'd get on back and let ya'll know whats been happenin in these here parts, hyawh. It was right nice to see my cousins from down south a ways at our little Easter pradu-...produck-... thingimabobber with the singing and the talking. What'd you say? Production? Stop making up words, Hank! Ya'll know what I'm goin on about. I recollect there was some sorta joke I was s'posed ta mention but I jus plum forgot! 'Magine that!

Now, if ya'll aint haven't noticed nothin t'all about my lil country western doa-diulet-diale... You know, my funny talk! I ain't like this here normally but I thought I would give y'all a heads up! No, Hank! There's nothing up there! It's a figure o'speech! No, I dunno what "figure o'speech" either. Just sumtin people say! oh, go milk a cow! Anyhyawh, as I was saying... Them there World Travelin' Puppeteers are havin' another o' them little melodrammers they like to have. Ain't that excitin! HOO! I ain't had this much excitement since Eddie lit after Hank fer setting a coon loose in his drawers! Oh hush Hank! Every'un knowed it was you! What? Well, you shouldn't have put yer brandin on that coon! How'd you get that coon stuck in his chest a'drawers? 


Um... Anyways! We have a skit upcoming and it should be a lot of fun!

Now, if any of you have played Balderdash before, then you will love LIEbrary! It's a similar concept but the goal is to write the first line of a book and try to figure out the right one! I had a lot of fun playing that with the youth from my church this weekend. It is quite hilarious to hear what my friends come up with! ("STOP!" Bob cried. Best, line, ever.)

Just thought I would pop in a quick reminder that my birthday is coming up soon! MAY 2! So be sure to send a long a card or two! (credit card, of course!) I accept cash in any form, so I'm not picky at all! :D

Anyways, I'm avoiding homework right now... So back to work for me!
Oh, and here are a few pieces from my glassblowing class :D

Words with Friends...

What are words? The myriad different words and their meanings that are placed intentionally to communicate ideas. Words. Small collections of different sounds that sum up the entire knowledge base of humanity. Possibilities of creation and destruction lie in the power of these insignificant emanations. Indeed the universe was created with a word, along with every single molecule of being, by God. A God with whom our sole source of communication with is words. The Holy Bible. Prayer. Preaching. The power of words relies on the individual speaking them. Words, by themselves, are stagnant. Unmoving. If I tell you to "Go to the store," and do not give you a reason beyond my simple command, you would not do it. In fact, I may even supply you with a reason, a hundred reasons even. My reasons must become significant to you. That is where the power comes. When the words become significant to the recipient. God's very breath has significance to our entire universe, and it is no small wonder that His spoken word created it and everything within. We agree that He has power, and that His power created us. Therefore some small measure of that power could have passed on to us. I believe that it did. Is it any surprise that the Holy Ghost is evidenced by speaking in other tongues?

I enjoy words. I like learning new ones and using them, the more obfuscating the better. (Obfuscating means hard to understand... DidyouseewhatIdidthere?) Language, poetry, prose are all fascinating uses of words. In sooth, my words turn ever quickly to that of yonder years, years of ages long gone past yet still to ever rear its head. Till thou hast made a morn-full tear, when I, in foolish ennui, speak like late Shakespeare. I wonder how long it took you to realize I was attempting to write in a style similar to his. The speech patterns of his plays are well known and easily recognizable to almost everyone. Words are powerful, but they must have meaning and a response. Without either, they are nothing. 

Boundaries

I had an assignment for a class today, and, in the process of actually being surprised I found the homework interesting, came across some fascinating information. It was a TED talk by Neuroscientist Neil Burgess about How your brain tells you where you are. Now, I found this quite interesting because he said that the way we figure out where we are... Is with boundaries. Rather than go into detail about it I will sum it up. The human brain has roughly a hundred billion neurons and these communicate through electric impulses. Now they did studies that showed a specific set of neurons in a rats brain fired whenever the rat was in a certain part of a room. A different set fired in a different area and so forth. If one were to enlarge the room, the area that the neurons fired in would stretch out according to the increased room. This is how we find our cars in a parking lot, by mapping the firing neurons in our brains when we park, we can return to the location by finding the correct neuron pattern. These neurons map the space around us. These neurons also assist us when we use imagination and even when we remember a previous occasion, such as a wedding.

This sparked a thought in my mind that made me recall one of my college teachers comments. Children playing at schools want barriers. They want that wall up between them and the street. Certain people noted how at recess the children would play to the fence. They would go all the way out and back in their play. One bright intelligent person with possibly a very advanced degree decided that we should do away with the fences. Perhaps the children feel caged or imprisoned and we should get rid of those fences! Well, this happened and the children would no longer play as far. They would stay closer to the school. The fences went back up eventually and the kids would play out to the fence again. While those students would go all the way up to the fence they still deep down knew the value of them. They wouldn't feel safe until the fence was back up.

In our life we have boundaries. Spiritual. Physical. Mental. These are what tell us where we are. We can push those boundaries to the limit. Expanding or contracting according to whim or reason. They are there for a reason. I could go on and explain and explain but I will leave it with this.

Without boundaries.


We will be lost.

Contemplative

I was told, quite recently, that I was "not nerdy, but smart and contemplative." Now we may dispute the former assertions of intelligence and the lack of being nerdy, but I would like to focus on the latter assertion. That is to say, the contemplative part. Being who I am, I would not say that I am especially thoughtful. Indeed, it is most often the case that I am not thinking, especially when I am speaking, and find myself in greater amounts of trouble than it would had I thought for but a moment longer. The thought needed for me to think to myself "Just shut up John." This thought rarely occurs to me until much later, after I have–with great time and effort–clawed myself out of the hole I had so quickly dug. That said, I find myself at times, when I am no longer surrounded by people or inclinations to speak, that I become pensive and... yes, even contemplative. Thoughtful almost. It is in these moments that I find myself eloquent. Speaking (Or rather, thinking.) with unfettered words and insightful musings which cause me to wonder why I cannot seem to grasp this innate part of me in times most dire. Dire circumstance like that of the hole-diggery and all around foot-in-mouth incidences. Am I the pompous prattler to which the surrounding observers must perceive me as? Is there some gift to obtain to suddenly become so quick-witted that I speak with quality? Sadly I believe that there is some interference caused by my proximity to others that causes my signal to be unclear. My wit is staticky. I don't have any antennas on my brain to fiddle with to get better reception either.

It is but the plight of a fool
to be one though he know it not
sadly speaking wisdom unwise
twisted words sound correctly but
sadder still when said fool knows it
for all a fools effort changes naught.

photo by Caitlyn Kimbley