Confessions of A Wannabe Man

"Why are all guys such jerks?"

"They're not all like that."

"They?"

"I don't necessarily count."

"Oh."

"Most guys are fundamentally decent, but, we're all fucked up in the same way. It's the big difference between men and women."

"What's that?"

"It ain't the parts, it's the wiring."

"And?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"The truth is, all men know exactly what they want. I mean they know what that one thing they want is..."

"And?"

"And they know they can never have it."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"What is it?"

"Can't talk about it either."

"Why?"

"As long as we keep it to ourselves we can pretend like we don't want it at all. And pretending is the only way we can go on without it."

"Sounds sad."

"It is."

<pause>

"Why are guys so weird?"

"Don't worry kid. We're not all like that."

Delusions or A Treatise On The Inequality Of Halves In A Confabulation Caused By A Split Brain Scenario or Relax, I'm Just Fucking With You

The Layout Of This Entry Will Be As Follows:

1. Errol Motherfucking Flynn
2. The Strange Case Of The Man Carrying A Dog In My Imagination
3. The Dead Ghost
4. Apple Juice, Orange Juice, And Visions of Grandma
5. Apparitions Caused By The Bullet Lodged Just Behind My Left Eye

And so goes...

Errol Mother Fucking Flynn

Alright, so there was this time, some years ago, where I was driving in my car with a very good friend and a very good friend of his. We were discussing Salinger and my inability to pronounce the name Zooey (I mean what's the point of the extra letters if we still have to pronounce it Zoe). Somehow this segued into us discussing a story I had heard about someone with functioning brain damage as result of an inadvertent callotomy, in which the corpus collosum was severed effectively separating the two hemispheres of the brain. This discussion of the brain led to the discussion of teenage slang. Apparently at the time it was becoming popular to refer to oral sex as "getting brain". We found this hilarious, not really recognizing that "getting head" was really not that much more sensible. For a good week however we referred to oral as "severing the corpus collosum". We never explained that to anyone. We still thought it was funny. This slang conversation led us to a discussion on the now outdated slang term "In Like Flynn". I, of course, was the only one who had ever seen anactual Errol Flynn film. (Objective Burma! is still one of my favorites.) And there was some great debate as to whether or not the term could actually be attributed to Flynn's prowess as a womanizer. (Now look, I'm not saying we were the most sophisticated bunch, but conversation like this went down all the time. It was fun. Really.) This somehow led to me momentarily bringing up the fact that Flynn had been charged with statutory rape in the early 1940's by two underage girls. Flynn beat this rap, and somehow came out the better for it. It increased his reputation as a sex symbol and a ladies man. And never one to learn a lesson, when he died at the age of 50 in 1959...he was screwing a 15 year old. God bless America.

The Strange Case Of The Man Carrying A Dog In My Imagination

So last night I had several fever dreams. I woke up and passed out several times in fast succession but one strain carried through all of these dreams. There were these two men. One tall and one old and short. And they were carrying this dog on their shoulders. They carried him like you would a rolled up carpet, as if there was no consistency to him. I saw them everywhere I went in this dreams, no matter where we were they were always doing the same thing. Carrying this giant golden retriever dog and placing him in the back of a large black van. I pointed them out to other people but no one found it odd. I screamed to them, but they failed to acknowledge me. I woke up this morning wondering if they were real.

The Dead Ghost

Go tell that long tongue liar

Go and tell that midnight rider

Tell the rambler, the gambler, the back biter

Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down

Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down

Apple Juice, Orange Juice, And Visions of Grandma

I went to sleep early, but I didn't sleep well. See the thing about asking me to try and envision hell is that it sort of opens the floodgates. I can't stop envisioning hell. It gets ugly quick. So here I am at 4 in the morning, wide awake and feeling fine for the first time in a long time. I'm standing in front of my refrigerator drinking old apple juice, wishing I had orange juice, and for some reason suddenly thought of my dead grandparents. Don't ask me where it came from. But it was like they were right there. I think about them all the time, but this was the clearest they've ever been to them. I wondered for a second if they would like my dog. I woke up on the living room floor about an hour later. No, I don't get it either.

Apparitions Caused By The Bullet Lodged Just Behind My Left Eye

VOICE IN MY HEAD: Look, we should talk.

ME: What?

VIMH: You've done something horrible.

ME: Me?

VIMH: Yes. You've done something horrible and it's too late for me to stop it.

ME: Well if I don't know what it is, and it's too late for you to stop whatever it is, then why are we having this discussion?

VIMH: We're not. I just thought you'd like to know that you never really had a chance in the first place, and that you shouldn't be so hard on yourself when things begin to go horribly wrong.

ME: You know Voice In My Head, I think we'd get along a lot better if you weren't such a miserable prick.

VIMH: Funny. I was just thinking the same thing.

Why So Serious?

Whew...

So.

To start. I've pretty much given up on ever getting out of here before 10 PM ever again. But starting next week I'll have no choice but to come in early most mornings from now on. So, in short, things are about to get worse before they get better.

That sucks.

But I can deal with it. I'm just not sure what it will do to everything else. Antioch is coming up soon, and there's still quite a bit of work to be done there. I spent a lot of time this past weekend with the kids because I didn't get to see them at all last week. I'm 0-for-2 on seeing them this week either, and that doesn't look like it's about to get better. I think I've been doing halfway decent with spending time with Michelle, but I'm sure she probably thinks otherwise, and while that bothers me it is just sort of the way things are right now. I've actually been sleeping a bit more lately because I've been sick (and hiding it well) and been coming in later in the morning. So even though I don't get home till really late, and can't fall asleep right away, I am managing to sleep. Ain't that something?

Work.

Work is going. Not going well. Not going bad. But going. We need to pick it up a little soon, but we need to figure out a way to do that without it killing all of us. We've been in a happy/shitty place lately but you can only float there for so long. My old man flops between normal (which is shitty) and shitty (which is really shitty) depending on the sort of mood he's in. He's leaving for Florida on Friday, and while that will certainly give me one less major headache for a bit it comes at the worst time possible. Which is of course right when I could use him most. I'm just about ready to hire a girl to work here in the office with me. This last girl I interviewed seems like she could do the job, and she seems nice, but she's sort of young. And I'm not sure this office is the place for young people. I've also just ordered a display case for all the shit I've been collecting. I think it will look great in my office...and drive my father absolutely nuts. I've also ordered a few new things to go in the case. All of which I'm fairly excited about. I've ordered a Thing statue, an Iron Man mask and several small Iron Man busts (Even though I came down on the other side of The Civil War from him, I'm still ridiculously excited to see the new movie), Superman and Batman action figure sets, and the piece-de-resistance...Mjolnir, The Hammer of Thor. Yeah...tell me about it.

I watched The Wind That Shakes The Barley last night, it was a good movie. It definitely got my Irish up a bit. Then I started watching We Are Marshall and I thought that was pretty good too. I've been watching a lot of movies lately since there isn't shit on TV, but I still can't wait for Lost (9 more days) and Heroes to come back.

So that's pretty much it. I've got somebody I've got to see this weekend. Something I've got to do. And a whole lot of other more important stuff to cram in there too. Maybe I'll even write a little. Who knows.

And a final note. Heath Ledger died today. He was 28. That's fucked up. He seemed like a cool guy. I really liked A Knight's Tale, 10 Things I Hate About You, and Ned Kelly. I'm excited about seeing him play the Joker in The Dark Knight. It's too bad he won't be around to see it himself. Travel well man.

I'm out.

What?

Let's put it this way.

FUCK.

Yeah. That about covers it.

So this morning I woke up and could, for some unknown reason, recite in its entirety the poem "If-" by Rudyard Kipling. Yeah, it is one of my favorites, but it has been years since I tried to memorize it and failed. But this morning it was there, so I pulled out my old copy of Kipling and double checked...and sure enough it's there. I can pull the copy out from under my blotter now. Don't need it anymore.

"If you can dream - and not make dreams your master. If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim." - Rudyard Kipling, If-

So Friday night I hung out with my little brother for a bit after getting out of work late and then watched 3:10 to Yuma which I really enjoyed. Saturday night I spent with the kids again, and then I spent a few minutes checking in on someone I hadn't seen in a bit. Got chastised for never calling. Big surprise there. I found myself watching this South Korean monster movie called "The Host" at four in the morning. It was really good too. Sunday was the Scavenger Hunt for Antioch. Its one of my favorite activities because it means I get to screw with people for a whole afternoon and they have a lot of fun. I miss the days when I got to go on the Scavenger Hunt though. Gone are the days of the lot of us dropping trough in front of a police station and mooning the camera. Gone are a lot of days I suppose. Sunday night Michelle and I went to see Cloverfield even though I was absolutely exhausted. It amused me how much it was like a damn theme park ride. I kept waiting for the lights in the theater to flicker and smoke machines to start going off. It wasn't a bad movie. It just wasn't good either. Despite the warning signs, someone puked in the hallway during the film. It sort of does that to you. I headed home and watched Sunshine, which cemented two facts: 1. I have a bit of a crush on Rose Byrne. 2. I have a total man crush on Cillian Murphy. Not in Jake Gyllenhaal sort of way though. You know. I just think he's cool. (Two points to anyone who understood either joke there.) Overall it was a decent weekend.

"Oh. Fuck off. I'm Clive Owen. That's mental." - Clive Owen as Clive Owen in "The Extras Christmas Special"

I've also been reading the Marvel Civil War comics still and plotting a display case in my office for all the statues and memorabilia I intend to buy. I'm dead set on getting a replica of Mjolnir. (Two more points to anyone who gets that.) I've been trying to write my talk for Antioch too. It's not going well. I'm sure it will be fine...because I know I can make it fine. Got a lot to get around right now though, a lot to figure out. Same as always I suppose. There's always a way. But...still.

I wish I had my way.


"I wish I had my way, because everyday would be a Friday, you could even speed on the highway. I would play ghetto games. Name my kids ghetto names: Little Mookie, Big Al, Lorraine." - Skee-Lo, I Wish

SIM, SIM, SALABIM

I've been thinking. I'm long overdue for a catchphrase.

I'm reading comics again. This time it's the Marvel Civil War series and the corresponding story arcs in their respective series. It's cool because, just like DC's Kingdom Come, it easily reintroduced me to the superheroes I followed when I was a kid and it also introduced me to either new characters or characters I simply never paid any attention to.

This also means I've been spending some time in Joker's Child. I've been there three times this week after having been there three times in fifteen years. When you spend money there you get gift certificates. I spent my first set of certificates on an 18 inch tall Hellboy figure which is prominently displayed in my office. I went back and picked up an 18 inch figure of Marv from Sin City and a 15 inch limited edition statue of the Incredible Hulk. Hellboy, Marv, and the Hulk are my boys you know. All I need now is The Thing from The Fantastic Four and Beast from X-Men and I'm set with all the comic characters I most easily relate to. It's funny when I was a kid my favorites were The Flash, Wolverine, and Batman and Superman. Guys I was obviously nothing like. I remember Hulk and The Thing from when I was real little. They were these big tough totally out of place guys. Hulk had this rage and Thing had this sense of humor and to me they were the greatest fictional characters ever. I was slow so I wanted to be fast like The Flash, I was proper so I wanted to be crude like Wolverine but I connected with Hulk and The Thing because I felt I was like them in a lot of ways. Hellboy and Marv came later, but it worked the same way. Marv was born in the wrong time, and Hellboy shouldn't have been born at all. Might as well call them my brothers in cause.

I'm still trying to learn another language. Or at least a little of one. I'm working on Russian right now. It's not going all that well. I haven't been able to practice much this week. So next week I'll have to try extra hard. I'm playing the new WWE video game which makes me think about how much I liked wrestling when I was a little kid, and how stupid I think it is now...even though its not that different. I haven't been writing much lately. Can't even seem to get started on the new version of my talk for Antioch, but that's for a long list of reasons I don't want to get into right now. I saw Juno the other night, and it was great. Still haven't seen No Country For Old Men (thought the book was good though), or There Will Be Blood (it's a tough sell getting anyone to go to a movie that sounds like a b-horror film but is really about turn of the century oil workers), or Sweeney Todd (though the cousins were supposed to call me to go see that one). Cloverfield comes out tonight. I don't really want to see it, but I am curious. So who knows.

I'm also wondering what happened to someone I was looking forward to seeing again. Wondering how so many people could disappear all at once. And hoping that they are all ok. Wherever they are.

So anyway. I'm tired and beat up and off track in the best sort of way. But it's not so bad. In fact it's pretty damn good. And it could be even better.

So who knows.

Actually...I do.

A Well Respected Man

There Goes That...

Like The City In Alaska

"What are you doing?"

"Something I probably shouldn't be doing."

"Is it a bad thing?"

"Could be."

"Then why are you doing it?"

Take a second and think about what you know about me.

Maybe it's nothing. Maybe this is the first time you've ever seen this. Maybe we've met in passing. Maybe we've known each other our entire lives. Maybe you're that girl who was in my journalism class in college. Or that guy I knew from the radio station. You could be that kid I played ball with in high school, or that one from church who I got to know a little bit, or just somebody who read this a long time ago and is just checking back in out of curiosity...just to see if I'm still here.

So think about what you know about me.

And wonder how much of it is true. Wonder how much of it is me. Wonder how much of it is just some character that we've all worked on making up out of nothing.

So think, and then wonder, and then decide if you can answer the question the same way that the rest of us do.

Because I can.

Oy.

I'm sitting here in the office contemplating doing things I shouldn't be doing. Thinking about every fucked up thing I've ever thought, every fucked up thing I've ever did.

And it sort of makes me smile. Sort of makes me laugh.

Because yeah I'm fucked up. But I ain't half as fucked up as most of you.

I may be slightly queer, not in that way of course, but at least I ain't fucked six ways from sundown.

So listen here.

Judge not lest ye be judged, and fuck not lest ye be fucked. And whatever you do...don't get in my way. Cuz' I'm a coming. And when I get there...

Oy.

Battle Without Honor Or Humanity

There is too much wrong right now.

Too much of my doing, too much of things I can do nothing about.

Just too much wrong.

There is a war coming.


These are the words of a dreamer. A prophet. A sinner. These are the words of a man gone wrong. A man whose time never came. A man who continues to fight because he knows no other way. These are my words. And he who stands in my way shall fall...as surely as the coming of the tide.


I can feel the ax in my hand.

Can feel the ground beneath my feet.

There was never any other way.

The crowd roars.

The earth shakes.

I move.

They offer a fight, I give them a war.


I can't stop the rain. And I can't make the sun come out. But I can tell you it's only water. And there are worse things than being wet.


I'm 27 years old today.

I have no idea what the next year will hold. I have no idea if there will be a next year.

Happy Birthday to me.


There is no light...we run on.

my name is jonas

i'm carrying the wheel

thanks for all you've shown us

but this is how we feel



things were better then

once but never again


a ticket cost only your mind

the driver said hey man we go all the way

of course we were willing to pay


got a box full of your toys

they're fresh out of batteries

but they're still making noise, making noise

tell me what to do

now the tank is dry, now this wheel is flat, and you know what else


the buildings not going as he planned


the workers are going home

the workers are going home

the workers are going home

the workers are going home

yeah yeah yeah

My Name Is Christian.

Letter Pt.3

Dear God,

Fuck you.

Your friend,

Palomba

P.S. - How many times are we going to dance this dance?