The Hardest Thing

The hardest thing, in these troubled times, is to keep the faith. And by faith I really mean Faith.

Yep, another one of those rants.

Top New York judge clamoring of dire results and top-end revolution if state judges don't get long-overdue raises. Current salary: $150,000 per annum +, no shit.

State hopes to keep all 'correctional facilities' open for business, albeit admittedly at taxpayers' expense, and business is good: 1 in 100 Americans will have done time in one of 'em.

Federal government abets the bail out/takeover of Bear Stearns, and after a backlash, raises the compensatory pay on what was a $60 stock note last month from the original bargaining of $2 per share to around $10 per share. We pay for their wanton carelessness and misguided, blind risk assessment myopia. Oh, and don't think that they're the first...or the last, for that matter.

My wife gets a 'green' update email describing how the television waves are going to HD and the ol' rabbit ears will no longer pick up the frequency...at all. The email discloses how to best and most quickly and responsibly pick up a converter box. Here's a crazy idea: put a cover on the fucking box and put some plants on top of it. When you get desparate, watch a good film or read a book. Elaine Pagels has some groundbreaking material on the Nag Hammadi texts that people should at least be aware of.

I could (and likely so could you) add to this list of perils and woes ad infinitum. Every day. Every day we could compound our misery at the travails of the modern world/culture/society. Great! I say great! That is coffee you smell, so wake up! Wake up to something for Gods' sake! Maybe most don't give a rat's turd about that. But get really pissed or completely and utterly dejected by current events? Why not!? Feels better to feel badly, doesn't it? And shit, since most of us are already pulsing out and carrying that energy anyway, it's so much easier to go with the flow! Yeah! Easy, going with the flow.

Perhaps a step along the way is to wake up a little to the world around us and get indignant, downright and justifiably angry. Yeah, anger, that's the stuff of change. Get angry and argumentative. Yeah. And then try not to carry that bag around with you. Good luck.

So what to do, what to do, with a sigh and shoulders slumped.

Here's what my number one Teacher tells me, and under no vague or uncertain terms whatsoever: if I am to have any peace, any measure of serenity at all, I first have to give up the big ME. Then I need to make sure my House is clean. And I'd better be really sure that the log is taken from my eye before I can go looking to take any splinters out of anyone else's.

Why even bother? My spiritual belief is such that this heavy body is a vehicle on a journey, and the purpose of this journey is to a) take what experiences I have, wrest them into a place of Blessed Peace, recognize them as Grace, and share that Grace with others, b) live my own ministry of Blessed Peace and Compassion by being awake, to the best of my ability, to the needs and condition of those around me, c) give all the Blessings I have received from a Kind, Loving, and Just God back to this world, and d) love my God and my family with all my heart and soul and spirit and never, under any circumstances, place anything before Them.

A most amazing thing occurs when I can maintain that focus and that vibration, and it has only recently come full circle in my understanding of a teaching of my very beloved Chris. In frustration, years and years ago, I asked, furiously, "Do you just know all the fucking answers at some point?!" He serenely and genuinely replied, "No, you just have fewer questions."

And it has been my experience.

I could easily and readily fall back to outrage and/or despair, the dalliances of stasis, and sometimes I do. But the reward of recognizing the Truth that Mahatma Mohandes Gandhi extolled ("Be the change you wish to see in the world") is better, if only more challenging. I invite you to try it. Take that personal inventory and jettison that unwanted, unreliable, and just plain antiquated shit. You'll be so much lighter, and your Vessel will have more space to fill with all things Light. Light, like making apologies you thought were dead and gone. Admit to foibles, mistakes, misdeeds, and be willing to receive the Good News that you're part of the Human Family, and we all screw it up sometimes! Allow yourself the hug that shatters the barriers, the handshake that softens your heart, and the possibility that everything is exactly as it is supposed to be.

God loves you, and will never even for a moment forsake you.

Imagine we collectively tried to exact that ideal of God here, on Earth. With each other.

Imagine that.

Go on...imagine that.......

Not inane, hardly detritus

There's a wonderful plaque that rests on a mantle on the way down the stairs of my church. It reads simply, "God does not call the qualified, but qualifies the called." What that means to me is that none of us are more in tune with or have a better understanding of God than anyone else, but that what's important is to merely take a step toward God, whatever your understanding of God is. In that vein I offer what occurred to me today as profound, sublime. It occurs to me that there is not a soul on this earth or beyond that is below or not deserving of redemption. Indeed, we each have redemption in that we are a part of God (this is just my opinion, of course) already. 'Perfectly imperfect' as my teacher Chris stated it often. We do what we do and have the experiences we have merely as an educational tool on our way back to the Source. Hmm. What I'm trying to say is that I fuck up, you fuck up, we all invariably and inevitably fuck up, but really that's just 'missing the mark'...what the Christ referred to as 'sin' (Gnostic transliteration, not Orthodox). It's educational, it's vital to our experience, and it by no means disqualifies us from redemption or God's love for us.
Take it or leave it, and many leave it, and that is understandable and receives no condemnation or perjorative judgement from me: that's your path. I'm only trying to share the beauty of a blossom that I've found along my path. If nothing else it is that I know, and I feel, that I am not alone and that I am loved. By God, by God! And it is my belief that each of us belonging to this Human Family is by nature of merely being blessed by this Love and Grace as well.
It is my hope only to share with you what passes through the conduit of the consciousness of my fullest potential, my highest aspiration and vibration.
You're wonderful. You're so important. I hope you know this, and that you are loved.
Amen.

Good Friday

Having just returned from another powerful experience that I'd like to share with you, I first offer this caveat: I have three sublime teachers that I work with. The first is my minister, the pastor at my church. He brought me into the fold by helping me understand things that I had been asking, and presented theological implications (historical, etc) that quelled numerous misgivings about a church being capable of (and culpable for) providing some of what I crave. The second is a man who was recommended to me by my doctor, my doctor who is also a family friend and confidant. I've worked with him for almost two years now. He is primarially theosophical, although delves effortlessly into Eastern mysticism and Christian banter as well. The third is counted among my dearest of friends, extraordinarially trustworthy and kind of heart, and he is an ordained Gnostic minister. Having studied various sects of Buddhism years ago, and having read (not entirely, mind) the Qu'ran, and having a perfunctory knowledge of other religions and mysticism from years of curiosity and hunger, I have come to Jesus (the Christ) as my primary teacher. With all respect and adoration of all religions and spiritual paths (and I will restrain from my strong desire to expound on the whys of that for now), I've never in 36 years been consistently moved to tears, day after day, read after read, than with the profound understandings that I glean from the copious gospel ("good news") volumes attributed to the expressions and history of Jesus. The gnostic history, which I've been consuming like cold water on a hot day, has helped ameliorate any misgivings I've had within myself about the four 'chosen' gospels and the human Truth (as far as what feels right to me, right now, in my limited understanding) of Jesus as the Christ, and so on and on and on I could go but I want to get to the sharing so I'll stop!
I was ruminating on the significance of the pendulous, ruddy moon tonight. I was on my way home, over the mountain, from a somber service at my church (which, by the way, is progressive Presbyterian). We, the choir in this case, performed a remarkable song, Tchaikovski's When We Behold Thy Bleeding Wounds, which sets the tone appropriately I suppose. At any rate, the service, of which no more than 8 or so people attended (ours is a very small church) was really quite remarkable. One line that stuck out immediately was in an Affirmation of Faith reading, stating, "The world exhausts its rage on the body of Jesus Christ." That's pretty hardcore. I mean, that's the pivotal part of being considered a Christian, I think.

Okay, I was about to launch into another littany, but I still haven't gotten to the sharing thing.
Let's see, the choir, the moon.....oh yeah. Here we go.
Regardless of what you might consider Jesus, the man from Nazareth, voluminous history shows that he at least existed, and that he at least went through some pretty horriffic, crazy shit. Even agnostic scholars will concede that much. So given that, and to take all that on a strictly human level, what strikes me most is that Jesus had the conviction to believe that he was doing this all for us. You. And me. It matters not a mote what the Truth is in the light of the fact that he was tortured and killed because he loves us.
And while on the human level in this discussion, here's what I'd like to share, as it's what the moon in all her glory was reminding me of tonight on the way home through the woods, in the silence and darkness of night.
It's a reading from the service, this Good Friday service, the night to commemorate the evening when Jesus gave his spirit over to our Mother/Father. It is regarding Mary, his mother.

Even Now

She stands
beneath his dying
and will not be persuaded to leave,
despite the urging of the others.
They huddle against her
in an effort to hold her
against the pain,
but she stands erect,
unleaning,
her eyes fixed upon his face.
From the hillside
the sounds of weeping and wailing
hang heavy in the air,
but she who held him
in a stable in Bethlehem
stands silent
beneath his cross in Jerusalem,
her heart pondering still,
her soul magnifying the Lord,
her spirit praising God,
knowing even now
that she is blessed among women.

from Kneeling in Jerusalem by Ann Weems

There is so much I wish to share with you, but you are on your Divine path, and I mine. We'll meet when we're One again, and that'll be just fine.
Have a wonderful Easter weekend.
Remember that even if you turn away, it's no matter. You're still loved and held dearly in the heart of the Universe.
Peace be with you.

Saturday

Had a lovely visit, took a walk to places I hadn't even visited before in my own backyard. Who woulda thunk...

Some really good lines popped into my conciousness this morning, perhaps due in part to thinking through some of Zee's thoughts:

"...I have a dreamt of a place in time, where nobody gets annoyed,

but I must admit, I'm not there yet, but something's keeping me going.

Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find.

Open up the world and let me in, then there'll be a new life to begin.

I've been waiting for that moment to arrive.

All at once this house of Peace will fill my eyes.

How nice...." -Yusuf Islam

Gotta go to choir rehearsal and contemplate God. See ya soon.

Okay, okay...

...in light of my most recent polemic, I offer this as good (local) news:

Current Leiutenent Governor David Paterson is set to be sworn in as Governor of New York on Monday, and here are two things I already appreciate about the little I've seen of him: a) he said, when questioned about the Spitzer turmoil, that (paraphrasing), "Eliot is a dear friend of mine and he and his family have had enough right now..." Didja catch that? A man in politics not even obliquely distancing himself from a friend that could tarnish, if not damage, his political career. Takes a certain kind of person to do that, and it very subtly commands a lot of respect. B) as a legally blind man, I have not seen him reading from prepared statements in response to questions or in statements to the press and public. There's something so outlandish about that these days that, wow, he may actually need to know what he's talking about and may actually need to respond with *gasp*...candor. I know, I know, sounds crazy, but it's largely true.

Gave me a little lift anyway.

Enough to present a new contest! Hooray!

Okay, here's todays question: Which of the following statements is/are true given the statement, "It has been proven: a woodchuck can indeed chuck wood"?

a) wear a helmet and a cup

b) depends on what the definition of 'can' is

c) I will learn to ride a unicycle by autumn '09

d) woodchucks are monogamous

e) wasn't even there, don't know what you're incinuating

f) we may never pass this way again

Of course you don't need luck, what with a lunchbox like that.

You've got that sinking feeling

Sometimes you just wanna throw in the towel, flush the whole thing, wrap it in a moist towelette and slip it under your neighbor's car seat. Well that's where a particular email left me today. The first line, and I swear this is true, read, "this is an email to correct the concern that Obama is a muslim."

I am not making this up.

I understand that emotion breeds ignorance, and we're all guilty of it from time to time, but give me a fucking break. (Oh, right, pardon my language...) So first of all, would it be okay to send out a mass mailing stating, "this is to assure you that McCain is not a jew."? No. Period, end of story. So why address some other candidate, or any person else for that matter, in such a ridiculously poised statement? I'm having a hard time even expressing myself here about this, my apologies.

Look, what in the name of God does it matter if someone is a Christian, Hindu, Taoist, Muslim, Jew, agnostic, a warlock...why does it matter and why cast the discussion in such a perjorative light?

You've gotten my point by now; I'm stammering still and will not expound any further tonight. Maybe these poor, ignorant people will at least show the respect to capitalize proper nouns in the future.

For now the toiling, weary, and basically walking dead that make up the majority of this country (and likely the rest of the 'civilized' world) will continue to spew venom and absurdities from a carnal and emotional ground that has no realm where we aspire to be. As Barry Hannah so eloquently phrases in his poetic treatise on the gospel of Mark, "...for now there are no kings, for service is kingly."

Maybe we should take a step back from this material world a few times more often during the day and ask if we're truly speaking and acting as our higher selves.

There's your fucking revolution.

Peace to you all.

Falls into Grace

I'm going to depart from the published canon of this blog for a moment to address something of importance and ye that would nay-say get my tongue sticking out, momentarily.
Eliot Spitzer, the ambitious former Attorney General cum Governor of this fine confused dichotomy of New York, has resigned. Props to the cantankorous and aggressive Joe Bruno for, at least to the ears of the republic, taken the actions of his most vociferous adversary with guarded class and sympathy. That aside, this is the perfect opportunity for each of us to grow. How? Glad you asked. First and foremost, it's important to realize that part of the reason we love this kind of negative and destructive sensationalism is that it makes us feel good, better than, like we as individuals of a species are momentarily superior. We're not, of course, and I hope that's not a crushing blow to any egos out there. So it's so easy, yes, easy to fall into the pool with so many others and bash and harangue and generally wallow in and create misery. Here we have a choice to not do that, en masse. Let's.
How to avoid that synapse of doom that is so deeply carved into the cerebral infrastructure? Here's where I start: it's his journey. His journey affects his wife, his children, Joe Bruno, Sheldon Silver, all the way down the line. Here's the beauty: his journey effects even you. How is this germane, even possible? Allow me to expound, because I love to expound.
Eliot Spitzer, Governor of New York, is busted in a sting operation of a high-end prostitute ring. He has championed the cause of tough, no-nonsense, by-the-book prosecution of all manner of crimes as Attorney General. He won the election for Governor by a 70% populous vote, riding a gleaming white horse of moral high ground and swift and immediate change in a legislature that is historically a lumbering, impotent behemoth. Now he has lost all credibility. Great! This is an opportunity for this individual to make a tremendous personal leap in his journey in this lifetime. He made the choices he made due, in part I'm guessing, to a deeper sense of disconnect or emptiness or sorrow, etc ad infinitum. Part of the human condition we can all relate to, yes? So he needs to learn something, a big something granted, from all this. There's a sublime truth in that for all of us. What's more is that we can look at our own shortcomings or deep sorrows and understand better how to drive around with them in our conciousness without running off the road. We've all got them, the experiences of the entire spectrum of emotions, and we're all just trying to put them where they belong. Maybe this is what it takes for Mr Spitzer to get there. I'm not suggesting we condone destructive behavior, I am suggesting we augment our thinking around the bigger picture and act with compassion. No more stones to throw. It's an archaic practice that has had it's day, let's be done with it. No more character assasination, it's spiritually immature and frankly crass. We can learn to be kinder, to act with compassion, and we can learn that we all have something to learn from each other. To do otherwise is to defy that which is holy, which, my friends, is us...our lives.
I'll end soon, I promise, but I would like to share an excerpt from a reading one of my teachers presented to me this morning.
"...to attempt obedience to God in any circumstance is to find experience opening on meaning, and meaning is holy."
As I remove my rougher cynical edges with the 220 grit of understanding, these things have profound impact and deep meaning to me. I hope it is so with you.
Mr Spitzer is a troubled man and he and his family are in tremendous pain right now. Let's give them that and leave our baser judgements out of the airwaves. We'll all heal a little bit and feel a little lighter. When we're strong enough we'll pray.
Go out into the world joyful in the fact that God would use you to make a difference in other peoples' lives. Return to no one evil for evil, for you are known, you are seen, and you are loved beyond the scope of your farthest reaching imagination. This I truly believe. May it be so with you. [The former being transliterated from another wonderful teacher, with reverence and gratitude]

Rockin' like robots

Yes, tis true: Zee and I framed out the bottom floor AND got both doors in....in ten hours. Totally true. Now we get to play runaround for a few days (here, there, and some place else). I just got back from choir rehearsal, and to be honest I can barely keep my eyes open.

Just filling this much in has been daunting enough. Possible polemics upcoming include but are not limited to:

Eliot Spitzer

Vladimir Putin's puppet replacement

The hidden truth behind Zee's newest sculpture

Fiberglass insulation vs. denim

(write in your own...it's fun)

Monday, Monday...lala, la la la la

Look who came to meet me almost on time just after the dawn had broken, all bushy-tailed and frrrrrrisky! Ah, Zee, we did well today. Ya know, new construction is rumored to be square. It's a term not many are familiar with anymore, and it's just as well. What was a quick, down & dirty frame-and-mud now requires a few extra walls...HA! Nothing we can't handle. At least with this new construction there are no tangible phantasms to contend with.

No contest today. Well, maybe later, but the more important task at hand is to do yourself a big fat favor. Go out on the next clear night (no whining about the temperature, you big baby) and give yourself a minimum of 15 undisturbed, uncluttered minutes and stare at the moon. Let your mind wander from the stifling paradigm of the day, and get out there. Very refreshing, and it is my gift to you today. Really. It's at least as good as any prize you may claim from this here blog.

No luck needed bucky, you'll have more than you need.

Boo....or some such jeer

As my illustrious compadre Zee pointed out in his demented blog, we worked a few days in a house that, while I wouldn't neccesarily call 'haunted', I have gone on record as saying that it is the third most repulsive house (energetically) that I have worked on. Here's a quick hit-list of the places and the issues at hand...because it's interesting and I know how interested you must be.

Ahem...

#1 on the list goes to a house and property purchased by my dear friend Peter. Great guy with a truly wonderful vision, he picked up this dilapidated property for under a hundred Gs for it's proximity to the village of Great Barrington. Good, sound investment. However, the man that lived there for the last number of decades was, well, ill. He had numerous knives and other interesting weapons laying about, he rarely left the house and when he did it involved a bit of vulgarity and yelling. The floors (what was left of them) were coated with feces and urine from what we hope and assume were animals. Oh yeah, you also could only walk through the house on either story by means of a narrow meandering path through garbage bags filled with...you guessed it...garbage. All kinds of decaying masses. I could go on, because believe it or not, there's more to it, but for the sake of brevity, I'll end the description there.

At any rate, I worked on the house after he purchased it for one and a half days with one other person before I had to bag it. And I had no problem telling him that the dark, violent, threatening energy about the place was going to be a tough one to contend with, but it ended there. Last I knew the village had it condemned and Peter was left holding the bag on it.

#2 is kind of an odd one. I was working with Michael and we went to get a material list/etc together for a job out in Connecticut somewhere. The place was out in the middle...no, the far reaches...of nowhere and it was huge. The owners were some kind of billionaires and they had the house and the property to prove it. Well, I'll keep this one short by saying that on the way home, after a few hours wandering around the house, I mentioned that I wasn't going to be going back there. Michael was incredulous. Red-faced, he stammered his query as best he could in an attempt to ascertain what I was talking about. I said quite simply that "that house is like the pit of ultimate darkness or something. It's like a swirling vortex of misery and evil." And it was, and I didn't go back there, and I left that job a month later.

#3 I'm sorry to say goes to the home of someone I cared a great deal for. (This is the one Zee is referring to.) When I was asked to come to the house it was to see if I could somehow repair the damage done by the former owners. I won't even get in to specifics, but I managed to glean a lot of emotional and energetic information from the first two weeks I was there. The man and woman were bitterly divorcing, the kids (I'm guessing the girl at 14 and the boy a bit younger) were trying to be kids but were fighting the undertow of what was going on with the adults. Was the energy there already and affected the family? I'll likely never know, but I'm pretty confident I've got this family dynamic down. So they bought this house from this divorcing couple to house their infirmed and elderly mother. I grew so very, very fond of the mother, Jane, while I was there. She even attended my baptism in the river. She was so lonely in that house, but also so very frail and ailing. When she was able to get out of bed, she would show me old photographs and we would talk about those times and what everyone was like, etc. But for the most part she was asleep or just unwilling to get out of bed. Her son visited once a day at 5 p.m. for ten minutes or so...otherwise she was on her own. I cried a couple of times on the way home, feeling so fucking helpless to do more for her.

Jane ended up going into the hospital for a while. In the meantime, Grace from church was diagnosed with an aggressive, swiftly terminal brain cancer at the same time her husband left her and she lost her house and farm. She has two teenaged children who I imagine are pretty lost and confused and sad and angry and all that stuff right now. Anyway, we ended up moving them into Jane's house two weekends ago on a Sunday after church, and things seemed okay except that they can only stay there for two weeks. Why? I haven't the faintest idea. So Zee and I were working in this energetically challenged house, being asked to install horrible, garbage material with the misguided notion that they were saving money, and basically feeling pretty shitty about that aspect alone. But then Zee made the comment that he felt like he was going to need a psychiatrist after this job, and it struck me that he was feeling that repulsive energy.

This job seems to drag on interminably slowly, to our chagrin, and we still have another day or two up there before it's done. On the upside, the heat is off us for a little while, the downside being that the heat is off us for a while because Grace will have been moved out again and Jane passed away on Thursday night.

Those are the top three most energetically challenged houses I've worked in, and I hope they remain there.

So, for the big money, the big kahuna, the big cheese, the salt and the pepper, the jock to your strap, ladies and gentlemen, I give you today's Trick Pony Contest! Yes, that's right, let yourselves go wild, you deserve it! Yeah!

Okay, today's contest, my little chiquita bananas, requires some thought.

Twelve men (or women, or a mixed group, I don't care) hear what sounds like someone eating celery behind them. They turn and see nothing but a squirrel wrapped in a Wendy's napkin, struggling to free himself. One person from the group frees it, only to be bitten on the tip of the thumb. Later that evening, this person thinks he hears the word 'penis' in a conversation that also includes his name. When he goes downstairs to check it out, he finds no one there, but the refrigerator door is wide open. As he closes it, what happens to him?

a) the door seems to whisper, "sinep"

b) something invariably and totally immaturely involving his penis, right?

c) he's teleported to the bathroom

d) [please, I insist, enter your own answer for 'd']

Winners of this one will be handsomely rewarded for their perseverance with something, perhaps even something wrapped in a Wendy's napkin....good luck bubby.

What a good little robot am I

Finally, breathlessly, finished the O'Shea job, racing to finish the Conkling job, just to insure the guaranteed start time for the Cross job...barely had time to poop yesterday. What a good little robot!
Reading the Pagl history of the Gnostics, reading as Jesus on Sunday, little league tryouts Saturday, Rosco in dire need of a bath, cut a dime-sized chunk of my thumb off yesterday, truck is filled, cab and bed, to the point that I can just fit my tender frame in the drivers' seat. Is there more? Yes!
But the rest can wait...gotta go to work! (pant pant pant)
You can be a good little robot by playing today's contest! Here's how you do it:
a) you put your right foot in
b) you take your right foot out
c) and this is the critical part: what is it that you intend to shake all about?
Winners will be selected, at random, to the tune of Hosanna...the original score, not the film score (just so there's no confusion).
Good luck, not that you need it.

Yes, he is still watching and still pitying you as a fool.
Today's contest winner will be removed from the Pity List.

Easy one bucko: finish the nursery rhyme, "This old man, he played one..."

a) he played knick knack on my buns

b) we are talking about a digereedoo here, right?

c) no idea, but the premise is fun

d) at a nudist camp on vacation

e) [no really, please enter your own response for Randy to consider]

Winner will be notified telepathically. If we receive a busy signal, the next runner-up will receive the prize.

...such a lonely word

Here's the thing: I had to be honest. Had to be.

I just got back from jury duty. The kid, some disenfranchised loose jean wearing kid, got busted for driving under the influence of drugs (pot in this case). No testing was done at the time of arrest, but that really didn't matter to my thinking, although it was a sticking point for other jurors. At the time of the third question for prospective jurors, I said, "THAT is where I take issue with this." The judge and attorneys stared, awaiting some further explanation, so I asked to approach the bench "so I didn't have to air my opinions out in front of the community". The attorneys, the defendant, and I approached the bench. I looked at the judge (ostensibly a very pleasant man) and explained my truth as it pertains to this case and others like it in general:

This is how people get lost. Fall into cracks. I've been in recovery for almost ten years and I take real and personal issue with draconian drug laws. I don't use it (pot) and I certainly don't advocate it, but here's a kid looking for something. Why do people turn to drugs and addiction? Why is it so endemic to our society? These are much bigger questions than are germane to discuss here, but I am certain that, for me, punishment in this sense only creates more of the problem than it serves to alleviate it, and I can honestly tell you that there's no way under Heaven that I would convict this young man to any degree. Where's the help? Where are the mentors? Do you know what kind of background he's coming from? We're dealing with a much bigger picture here than this court is willing to address, and that's where I need to let you know that I will not be impartial; far from it, I simply will not let this young man become another statistic of a system that doesn't work.

The attorneys thought about it for a moment before the prosecutor asked that I be excused from the jury selection. The defense attorney responded that he completely understood what I was implying and agreed that I would be less than impartial. The judge said that I was excused and thanked me for my time. I put my hand on the young man's shoulder, looked him in the eyes, and said, "I hope you find your way." He didn't really know what to do with it, but smiled a very genuine smile and muttered something, half nervously laughing.

Look, I don't pretend to have all the answers; heck, I don't even know most of the questions, but I do know that the current system is a lumbering behemoth that rarely takes into account the precursor to infringements. One in one hundred Americans is incarcerated: among the world's highest percentage per capita. Something has to change. I hope that in some small way, I helped foster that change.

I need to take a drive now, so I can shake this stuff off. I get so deeply affected. When I watched the kid's reactions to things and realized that his attorney wasn't even really paying attention to the proceedings, my heart went out to him. When I thought of the infinite blessings that I receive and thought that if this kid was just given one shot at knowing them how different things could be, my heart went out to him. But it goes on and on, and people disappear (or make the choice to remain dead) every day, and if only I could do more. It is my highest and trruest intention to help in this world, but it gets so sad. So I will take a ride out to pick up supplies for the job tomorrow, and I'll have a little cry and I'll pray for knowledge of ways that I can make a difference, and I'll thank God for keeping me alive and providing this incredible gift of life to me. In the end my gratitude always outweighs my sadness, and that's a gift too.

In leiu of a contest today, this sobering day, I offer this prayer to you, cherished children of our Loving God:

O Lord God, you intend that we live fully,

yet we are reluctant to open our hands

to receive your abundance.

We prefer to do things for ourselves,

to trust that we know what is best.

Pursuing our own desires we have turned

from You and still wonder why we feel empty.

Forgive our sins.

Fill us again.

May Your Grace spill over into our lives, so that

we may gratefully accept what You offer, share

Your Grace with others, and live thankfully in the manner

Of Jesus the Christ.

Amen.

Article of Particles

News of the headworthy: on our front porch ceiling sits a motion-sensitive light; when it's dark out, the light will illumine when there has been motion within the bounds of its field of detection. We've all seen 'em, no big whoop. But, my friends, here's something to think about: when I bring Roscoe out at night, the movement of light falling out from the foyer sets off the porch light. I'm not describing this well. Let me try again.

The motion detector picks up on movement, right? Okay. Now the field of detection is well away from the door to our apartment, and the sensor faces away at a ninety degree angle. However, when light from the inside (foyer) falls across the path of detection, the sensor picks up on it and turns the porch light on. What's odd to me is that this is a tangible manifestation of the theory (fact, I suppose) that light is the reflection/refraction/absorption/etc of charged particles already extant in the field of observation. Basically that light cast in any direction will to some degree alter that particular field. The light from the foyer 'bounces' into particles extant on the porch and they bump and grind and create a 'disturbance' among the previously placid field of observation. The point of interest for all this calls to mind the issue of light pollution. If there is indeed any modicum of disturbance when light is cast into an otherwise quiet arena, there is disturbance created. This postulation goes a long way in illuminating (pun totally intended) the argument for the detriments of the saturation of EMFs, most commonly associated contemporarily with cellular devices. Think about it. Freaky.

Did I mention that at the deacons meeting today the idea of considering a bid to place a cell-tower in the steeple was broached? Most in attendence were thrilled at the idea that the tower placement could provide quite a bit of needed revenue. I remained silent on the issue for now (there's no dearth of bureacracy involved to proceed, I'm sure), but am prepared to excavate the peice I wrote on EMFs years back for HV...if only for the bibliography and source material. Seems like a direction I hope we don't need to consider.

On that note, an excerpt from an extraordinary Rilke poem sent along by Zee today:

Take your well-disciplined strengths

and stretch them between two

opposing poles. Because inside human beings

is where God learns.

Thanks, Zee. The late-entry contest is dedicated to you. Easy one tonight. Just finish these profound lyrics from Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons: "I look at you and my blood boils hot, I feel my temperature rise. I'm holding on gimme what you got....."

a) Do you like steak fries

b) They've grafted skin from your thighs

c) I'm allergic to most hair dyes

d) I generally eschew ties

e) (write in your own...could win...)

As always, good luck. Randy Jackson will review the entries and make some general and bland comment before choosing the winner.

PeeWee and Mr T

Two cannibals are having lunch. As they were about half-way through, one turns to the other and asks, "How's it going down there?" The other replies, "Me? I'm having a ball!"

Today's contest is a real challenge, so extra good luck to you, ol' buddy ol' pal. Also, Adam is running away with victory thus far, so if you chumps wanna shot at the prize pack (rumored to be valued at between $.46 and $22.31) you better get your groove on. Okay, that being said, here we go:

A plane travels at 612 m.p.h. from Albequerque, catching the jet stream tailwind at 3:02 CMT, exactly two hours and forty-four minutes into its flight. A bus leaves the Greyhound station in New Orleans (you know the one, just a few blocks northwest of the French quarter) at 11:07 EST. Mr. T is on that bus, carrying among other things, a small tin of Bag Balm and a half pack of Newport Lights 100s. On the plane is Paul Rubens, travelling with nothing but a carry-on filled with Prell. If they are scheduled to meet in South Chicago (a forty minute cab ride from the Amtrak station) at noon tomorrow, answer me this:

What time must that make it right now?

a) Alka-Seltzer; could see that one coming from the first line

b) Not telling

c) oops, there's the phone again...

d) vagina

You're all so very clever, but shaved chimps in laboratory experiments have fallen to seizure after exposure to this contest and twenty eight mL of single malt Irish whiskey, so by no means can I accept responsibility for the outcome. All I can say is that if we can put a man on the moon (like that really happened) we should be able to do something else, too.

Good luck, and don't lick your deodorant.